Free Bird
by Alyriaa
Summary: Caryl AU. After running from her husband Ed in the middle of the night, Carol finds herself in the small town of Ashwicke, Georgia. It's here that she'll start a new life and find her strength and independence. She never dreamed that she'd actually find people she cared for, one surly Daryl Dixon in particular, or a new place to call home. Yet that's exactly what she found.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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Carol welcomed the release of pressure as Ed rolled away from her body, his head already bobbing with drowsiness. She felt the sting of tears that hadn't come in years and she would have laughed at the irony of it if she weren't so desperate for Ed to fall asleep as soon as possible. She'd spent eight years in this loveless marriage, covering bruises and scars all while trying to keep her sanity from slipping away. She'd grown numb and had turned inwards in a means of self-preservation, not having really cried for the majority of her marriage. Yet here she was, on the night that she would finally escape, and she was crying. They were tears of relief, of happiness that she would never again find her body used so distastefully at the hands of a cruel man. Her body would no longer be seen as an object to bruise and cut or as an object to defile in the fit of Ed's need for release. She supposed that some of the tears were of grief too, shed at the loss of what their life together should have been.

At 22, Carol never would have imagined that her life would have come to this. She had been happy and relatively carefree. She was working towards a degree in education, dating Ed, and living a completely normal life. She hadn't even second guessed her decision when Ed had asked her to marry him. She had postponed her final year at school to plan her dream wedding, one outside in the springtime with lots of flowers, planning to return once she had found herself settled into married life. But the summer passed and the fall semester was approaching and Ed had convinced her to wait to sign up for classes until the next semester. Empty words of love and promises to provide had blinded her in her naivety and she agreed, wanting to please the love of her life.

Yet as that first year of marriage progressed, it had become more and more difficult to please Ed. Dinner was never served at the time he liked, she never seemed to have the house clean enough, his shirts weren't ironed well enough, the excuses were plentiful. She would apologize and promise to try harder, desperate to be the perfect wife that she had always dreamed of being. So when school was yet again postponed, she chose not to think about it too much. This was her marriage, what else could be more important? School would always be there for her to go back to, but if she couldn't make her husband happy then he might leave, and she would be alone again. That thought spurred her on in her attempts at perfection. Anything was better than being alone, even if she found that she wasn't quite as happy as she had dreamed she'd be.

It had started out small, the abuse. Ed would grow irritated more quickly as time went on and she'd find herself on the receiving end of snarky comments. He would tell her she wasn't trying hard enough, that she was lazy and forgetful. Eventually the insults became worse and in his irritation, Ed would spend late nights at the bar and distance himself from her as much as possible. Carol became distressed and anxious, always trying to predict Ed's behavior and do things in a way that would ease his anger. The second year of marriage came and went and the verbal abuse continued while Ed's drinking became a daily occurrence and a trigger for his temper. The first time he hit her he had been out until 11 at the bar, not even coming home after work. She had tried to time supper just right, but he had never been out so late without having come home first and she had been worried that something was wrong. So when he stumbled into the house drunk, she met him at the door only to be slapped without warning. Her eyes had filled with tears, more so from the shock of the action than any actual pain, which only seemed to make Ed angrier. He rampaged throughout the house, knocking items off shelves and throwing pillows at her as she stood in shock, unsure of how to handle the situation. The fit ended with him throwing the casserole dish with dinner in it out the back door, causing it to shatter on the back porch. Without a word, he had stalked up the stairs and gone to sleep. Frightened, Carol had done the only thing she could think of and cleaned up the mess, falling asleep on the couch once the house was returned to its usual state.

Ed had woken her that next morning, apologizing profusely and crying his apologies and Carol's heart had swelled with compassion for the man she had married. She believed him when he said it was a onetime thing, that he didn't mean it, that he loved her and would never hurt her again. How could a man show so much remorse and raw emotion if he wasn't really sorry? But it wasn't long before the next fit of anger left her with a black eye and hand shaped bruises on her arms. Still, Carol was sure that the Ed that she had fallen in love with was still inside him somewhere and she forgave him again and again. After all, he was right, wasn't he? She was lazy, not even having a job of her own, and he worked so hard to provide for her and give her a nice home. He was stressed and her inability to do as he wanted only added to his frustrations. So she tried harder and suggested that she go back to school or try to find a job. Those suggestions left her with a broken arm that she awkwardly lied about at the hospital, the first of many claims of having fallen down the stairs.

Eight years of this passed and here she was, 30 years old, about to leave it behind her. For so long she had listened to the man now snoring next to her. She had believed him when he called her fat, lazy, worthless, pathetic, stupid. She had trained herself to be up before him and to fall asleep after him, to have his meals ready like clockwork, to time the housecleaning just right so that she wouldn't be vacuuming while his sports games were on. Her entire existence had revolved around what made Ed happy, what would _keep_ him happy, and what would keep her out of harm's way as much as possible. She had thought about pressing charges once, but Ed had an uncle who worked at the police station with just enough pull that she knew any attempts to turn Ed in would do her more harm than good. So she pushed those thoughts away for years, until one day she had woken up and actually thought about her life. What kind of life was she living, acting as if she were no better than a slave? Her parents hadn't raised her to be dependent, hadn't raised her to feel small and insignificant. The man next to her had slowly but surely chipped her down to a shell of what she once was, and she had allowed it. She had been young and in love, lonely after the deaths of her parents, and desperate for a family. So desperate that she'd lost herself and allowed a monster to keep her captive. And now she was done.

That epiphany had been almost two years ago, causing a spark of desire to burn in her chest, growing stronger every day. She started planning her means of escape. She had no family, and only one close friend, their neighbor Jacqui who worked as a nurse at the local hospital. If she were ever going to get away from Ed, she'd just have to leave town. She couldn't inconvenience Jacqui and her family, and she had no one else to help her, so she figured the best option was to leave and start a new life where Ed wouldn't be able to find her. To do this she would need money and with no college degree or job, that part was a bit difficult. She had started squirreling away small amounts of cash from her grocery allowance, five to ten dollars per week, just enough so that Ed wouldn't notice. After two years, she had managed to save almost $1,000 by this method. She knew this wouldn't be enough for her plan to work, but she had one last idea that would give her just enough money to leave and find a small, cheap apartment for rent in another town, just enough to hold her until she could find some kind of job.

Her mother had passed just before her 21st birthday, two years after the untimely passing of her father. Since her passing, Carol had held onto her mother's engagement ring, wearing it on a simple chain around her neck. The ring had belonged to her father's grandmother and had been passed down for her parent's engagement. It was beautiful and a timeless piece of jewelry that she knew she could get at least a couple thousand dollars for. She had debated for months whether this was the right choice or not, not sure if she could really let go of the one thing she had left of her parents. It was her only option though, that she knew, and in her heart she knew that her parents would want her to sell it if it was going to get her out from under Ed's control.

She'd visited the local pawnshop that morning. The owner, Jim, had been a friend of her father's and had been happy to see Carol, until she told him her reason for coming.

"_Carol, are you sure you want to sell this? I can just hold onto it for you until you get the money back for it. I know this has to be important to you." _

"_I'm sure Jim. I doubt I'd ever be able to get the money back to you, and if I know it's here, I won't ever be able to forget about it."_

"_I can't believe Ed is okay with you selling this. Surely you two don't need the money that badly?" Carol narrowed her eyes at Jim's insinuation. She wasn't a fool, she was sure that people knew about Ed's treatment of her, but most people just turned a blind eye. The way Jim was speaking to her now, however, caused shame and embarrassment to rear its ugly head and Carol felt the need to defend herself._

"_It's my decision Jim. I want to sell it, I don't need it. Please, just give me an offer."_

"_I'm not letting you sell it Carol; your father would strike me down from heaven if I let that happen. I'll hold onto it for you, interest free. Think of it as a favor for an old friend. I'll give you $2500 for it, and if you ever get the money and decide you want it back, it'll be right here waiting for you."_

"_I'll take your offer, but I can tell you now Jim, I won't be coming back for it." There was no way she could, not if she didn't want Ed to find her and kill her. Still, what could it hurt if she kept the receipt? _

As Jim had counted the money, she'd removed the chain from her neck and laid it on the counter, refusing to look at the ring as she did so. It was just an object, she reminded herself, and she would still have her memories. The money would be of actual use to her and that was all that mattered now. With a word of thanks and a forced smile, Carol had left Jim's shop and returned home to hide her money under a loose floorboard in the kitchen pantry with her grocery money and an extra hundred dollars wrapped around a fake ID. The extra cash and ID had been a gift from Jacqui when she had said goodbye two days earlier.

Jacqui, her husband Theodore, or T-Dog as he preferred to be called, and their two small children had lived next to the Peletier's for the last five years. Ed had immediately dismissed the family, his racial prejudices preventing him from even attempting to get to know his neighbors. Carol, however, had really met Jacqui during one of her numerous trips to the hospital. Jacqui had been her nurse the third time she had gone in for a broken wrist and upon recognizing her neighbor, Jacqui had struck up a friendly conversation. Carol had immediately been anxious and fretful when she realized just how easily her cover could be blown, but Jacqui had been so warm and friendly that she couldn't help getting to know her. It hadn't taken long for the experienced nurse to figure out just how bad Carol's home life must be and had quickly managed to worm her way into Carol's life as her only friend and confidant. When Carol had told Jacqui about her plans, her friend had been more than supportive and insisted on helping in any way she could. This was how Carol had found herself in possession of two very strong sleeping pills straight from the hospital. These she had slipped into Ed's food earlier in the evening in order to ensure that Ed was in a deep slumber while Carol made a run for it.

"_Jacqui, I can't accept this! You could lose your job for those sleeping pills, I can't ask any more from you!" _

"_Honey, it's a gift. Use it for your bus ticket. If you can't get out of town then those pills will be a waste. Don't tell me I risked my job for nothing." Jacqui's smile was teasing and Carol knew her friend wasn't seriously worried about her job, but it didn't help ease the knot in her stomach. She stared down at the wad of money in her hand. Any extra cash would be helpful, she knew that, but it didn't feel right taking it, no matter how much Jacqui insisted._

"_Really Jacqui, I can just use the money from the ring. I don't-"_

"_You shouldn't even be selling that ring and you know it! That money should go towards finding an apartment or for groceries or furniture or something. Please sweetie, I might not ever see you again. Just let me do this for you. All you have to do is say 'Thank you' and we can move on." There was no use fighting it, once Jacqui got an idea in her head, she'd hold onto it like a dog with a bone._

"_Okay, alright. I'll use it for my ticket. Thank you, it means a lot."_

"_You're welcome, sugar." _

Along with the money had been a fake ID. When Carol had told Jacqui that she was planning on running and changing her name, the nurse had insisted that she get a fake ID in case she ran into any trouble. Apparently T-Dog worked with a guy who knew a guy, or something along those lines, and was able to get one for her using her old driver's license photo. The ID looked identical to her real one; the only thing changed was the name from Carol Peletier to Sarah Williams. Sarah, for it was a common name and her mother's name, and Williams, which was her maiden name. She had thought about changing the last name, but Williams was also pretty common and she figured that Ed wouldn't be able to find her that easily even if the name she had chosen was somewhat obvious.

A thundering snore shook her from her thoughts and for a moment, Carol was worried that Ed may have woken himself up. She lay still for several moments, listening to Ed's breathing to see if it still followed that steady rhythm of sleep, only letting herself breathe properly when his snoring continued. Glancing at the clock, she steeled herself for what she was about to do. The clock read 11:25, which gave her just enough time to get dressed and gather her money, ID and packed bag and head down to the bus stop in time to catch the last bus to the Greyhound station at 12. Taking a deep breath, Carol slid the plain wedding band from her ring finger, setting it next to the clock on the nightstand. The engagement ring Ed had given her had long ago been sold when money had been tight. She had thought about selling her wedding band along with her mother's ring, but she knew she wouldn't get much for it and the message she would send to Ed by leaving it behind was priceless.

Slowly but purposefully, Carol got out of bed and dressed in the dark, stealing a glance at Ed's form behind her now and again. She knew she couldn't take everything she owned with her, not that she'd want to as most of her clothing was plain and unattractive, just to Ed's liking. Earlier she had packed the few clothes that weren't too awful into a small duffel bag and hidden it away in the corner of the closet, ready for this moment. As quickly as she dared, Carol grabbed the duffel and made her way downstairs towards the kitchen pantry where her lifelines lay waiting. She'd head out the back door and down the porch as the screen on the front door often let out a loud creak whenever it opened and she didn't want to take her chances with waking Ed, no matter how many sleeping pills she would have been able to slip him.

Letting herself out the back gate and crossing the front lawn to the sidewalk, she stole a glance towards her house and looked up to the bedroom window. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest and she half expected to see Ed open the window at any moment. She stood for what felt like an eternity before she willed herself to move down the street, out of sight. Carol hugged her jacket tighter as a shiver ran through her, though she knew she was shaking with adrenaline rather than the cold. She had a long journey ahead of her, but she had officially taken the first steps towards her new life and that was certainly something to smile about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey lovely people, here's the next chapter! Thanks to everyone who's shown an interest so far, I love reading your reviews.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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Carol had managed to make the midnight bus. Other than an older man in back, she had been the only passenger crazy enough to travel so late. The drive downtown to the Greyhound station hadn't taken very long, but she was relieved nonetheless to get away from her fellow traveler who had felt the need to stare at her the entire ride.

The bus station was pretty deserted, its bright fluorescent lights illuminating the dingy room. Adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, Carol approached the ticket window where a surly looking woman sat, casually flipping through a cooking magazine. She huffed at Carol's request for a schedule but provided one just the same, glaring from behind her glasses.

Settling into a nearby seat, Carol studied the bus schedule closely. While she knew that the sleeping pills would keep Ed out for a while, her anxiety was getting the best of her and Carol wanted to get the hell out of dodge long before Ed was set to wake up. The farther away she was when he realized that she was gone, the better off she'd be. There was no telling what Ed would do when he woke up to an empty house rather than to a fresh cup of coffee and a hot breakfast. There were only two buses leaving within the next hour and the schedule was pretty much dead after that, so she would either be heading west or southeast. The thought had crossed her mind before to leave the state altogether but her fake ID was valid for Georgia and she knew that if she wanted to go to a different state she would need to get a valid ID there. That would cause too many issues with her name and the hassle wouldn't be worth it, so she was limited in her choices.

The trip west would take her as far as Atlanta, which as a location had its benefits. A big city would give her a lot of opportunity to find a job and an apartment to rent and she'd be able to hide in such a large city pretty easily. But living in the city was expensive and she didn't know her way around and that kind of living had never really appealed to her much. If she was going to start a new life, she was going to do it her way and be happy about it, and Atlanta might not be the best fit for her. The trip south led all the way to Valdosta. She had been to Valdosta once with her parents when she was much younger to visit a great aunt that she didn't like much. The memories from that trip didn't leave much to be desired, her great aunt really was quite awful, but it was farther away than Atlanta, and she noticed some smaller towns on the map on the route there that she could maybe get off at instead. So south it was.

$75 and 45 minutes later, Carol found herself boarding the bus with only a small handful of weary looking travelers. She turned to stare at the bus station as they pulled out from the boarding area and for a second, panic gripped her heart. A cross between a small sob and a laugh exploded from her and the driver turned back to look at her for a moment before returning his attention to the road. Laughing to herself, Carol sat back against her seat and pressed her palms against her eyes in disbelief. This wasn't a dream, this was actually happening. She was on a bus by herself at 1 in the morning heading 5 hours south, away from the monster of a man she had been married to for the past 8 years. A man that she was technically still married to. That matter was another can of worms that she wasn't quite sure how to open, but she wasn't going to think about that right now. Ed wasn't here, and he wasn't going to be a part of her life anymore. She would find a little apartment in some town and she'd live alone and find herself again.

She owed it to herself to find the smart and independent woman that her parents had raised her to be. She had married Ed partly because she was afraid of being alone, but she wasn't that scared little girl anymore. Being alone was better than being married to an abusive prick, if nothing else. She needed to find her strength and leaving Ed was just the beginning. Leaning her head back, Carol closed her eyes and imagined the life waiting for her just a 5 hour bus ride away.

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30 minutes before the Valdosta stop was a small town by the name of Ashwicke. A short conversation with the bus driver and Carol knew that Ashwicke would be her stop. The driver told her it was a relatively small town, the people there leading a simple lifestyle. Most people knew each other, but it wasn't quite so small that she'd feel out of place moving there. Apparently, there was a lot of construction work, which meant a small increase in population, so it wasn't entirely unusual for new people to come into town. The way the bus driver described it, Carol could live a quiet life and keep to herself. It was perfect and having found a new place to call home took a weight off her chest.

She'd gotten off the bus and hurried into the station just after six, heading into the bathroom to freshen up quickly before making her next move. It wasn't until she was splashing water onto her face and staring herself down in the mirror that she had absolutely no idea what her next move was actually supposed to be. Carol felt strangely disconnected from the face looking back at her and she struggled to maintain eye contact with herself as she felt her head spin. Suddenly everything that Ed had ever said to her came rushing back and it was as if Ed was standing in the bathroom with her.

"_You stupid bitch, you thought you could run away? You worthless piece of shit. How do you think you can live on your own, huh? No job, no money, you don't know how to do anything for yourself! You can't make it without me you fucking slut! No man's gonna want your fat ass anyway, you stupid bitch." _

Her hands were shaking as they gripped the sink; she kept her head bowed as she tried to calm her labored breathing. _He's not here, he's not here. You're just imagining it, calm down._ But his voice was so loud in her head and she could almost feel his breath on the back of her neck making the hair there stand on end. The water was still running from the faucet, her tears falling and mixing with the water as it circled down the drain. A hand falling flat against her back caused her to jerk away and squeeze herself into the small space between the side of the sink and the wall, whimpering in fear.

"Dear, are you alright? Are you sick?" Carol couldn't breathe as she stared wide eyed at the little old woman who had pulled her from Ed's presence in her mind. She stood unsteadily, slumping against the sink now, watching the woman in a dazed stupor.

"Are you with someone, dear?" She had apparently forgotten how to speak.

"Is there anyone I can call for you? You really don't look well." Swallowing painfully, Carol let her mouth open and close, performing a spot on imitation of a fish for a few moments before she found her voice.

"No. No, I'm fine. No." She was shaking her head now, trying to pull herself up into a straight posture. All she could hear was the one word falling from her mouth, over and over, "_No."_

Fumbling for her bag Carol stumbled passed the elderly woman, out of the washroom, and into the seating area of the bus station. Wildly she looked around, searching for a sign of what to do. Finally, she saw a payphone in the corner of the room, unoccupied at this early hour. Fishing some loose coins from her pocket, Carol crossed the room to dial the number of the one person who could help her.

"Jacqui Douglas."

"I made a mistake."

"…Carol? Sweetie, is that you?"

"Jacqui, I can't do this. I can't do this on my own, I can't." Carol was close to the point of hyperventilating now.

"Carol, calm down. Honey, listen to me. Calm down. Just take a deep breath and talk to me."

"Jacqui, I don't know what to do." She was trying to breathe deeply and slowly but it didn't seem to be working.

"Carol, where are you? Did you leave town?" Carol focused on the soothing tones of Jacqui's calm and collected voice. Closing her eyes and keeping the phone close to her ear, she leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit with her knees bent in front of her.

"I did. I'm in a place called Ashwicke, it's near Valdosta."

"That's good! Sweetie, that's good! Where are you now, right now?"

"I'm at the greyhound station. But Jacqui, what do I do? I don't know anyone here! I don't know where I am. I shouldn't have run Jacqui, I need Ed. He always took care of things; he always knew what he was doing! I'm still married to him, Jacqui, Jesus!"

"Carol, stop. No. You do not need Ed. You ran from Ed because he's abusive and cruel, you did the right thing leaving him. Carol, I know you're scared, I know it's daunting being in a place where you're all alone. But you can do this, you _have_ to do this. For yourself, honey. And you may not be divorced from him yet, but we'll figure that out eventually. For now you need to establish a life, without Ed, and worry about yourself."

"But Ed-"

"Carol. You do not need Ed. I promise you that. Carol, you made a plan to leave him. You got on a bus and left town and you did that all on your own. You're just nervous right now and that's okay. But don't you _dare_ think for one second that you should have stayed with Ed."

The line fell silent for a few moments. She knew she was supposed to say something, to let Jacqui know that she was okay, but she didn't think she could do that just yet. Breathing was getting a bit easier and Ed's voice in her head had dimmed a bit, but she still felt the panic constricting in her chest.

"Jacqui, I don't know what to do. I'm sitting on the floor in a bus station; I just had a panic attack in the bathroom and acted like a crazy person in front of a little old lady. She's going to go home and tell her grandchildren about the unstable, psycho woman in the bus station bathroom!" Jacqui let out a bark of laughter before returning her attention to the matter at hand.

"Carol, get up off the floor. Pick yourself up. Go to the person at the ticket window and ask them where you can find a motel and a place to get some food. You need to find a place to rest and you need to eat something. You've had a long night and you need to sleep, okay? That is what you do." Carol nodded, feeling the pressure in her chest lighten slightly. Jacqui was right and once she had a chance to rest, she would be able to think about her next move more clearly.

"Okay, yeah. I'll go find a motel."

"Good girl. Just worry about that for right now and everything else will fall into place."

"Yeah, okay."

"Do you want to talk a little bit longer, until you feel better? I still have some time before I leave for work."

"No, no, I'll be okay. Jacqui?"

"Yes, hon?"

"_Thank you."_

* * *

A full week had passed since Carol's phone call with Jacqui, and she was starting to feel a bit more positive about her situation. She had been staying at a motel right by the bus station and her first priority had been finding a place that she could actually call home. Ashwicke had proven to be quite a small little town and finding an apartment building with a vacancy had been a little more difficult than Carol had originally anticipated, but she had done it and would be signing the paperwork with her landlord later that afternoon. Carol had been shocked at how soon she would be able to move in to her new place, but was glad that she wouldn't have to be paying for a motel anymore. Sure, the place was cheap and a little more rundown than would be ideal, and she didn't have any furniture or basic living necessities, but she'd get there. The only thing left to do, really, was finding a job. Which was why she was currently sitting in Ashwicke's local diner, Irma's, scanning the want ads of the newspaper.

Carol had been eating at Irma's all week due to the motel situation and while she normally would have been bothered by eating out for every meal, she couldn't say it was too bad of a deal considering how good the food was. Irma's was owned and run by Dale and Irma Horvath, a friendly elderly couple who had lived in Ashwicke all their lives and was the main food hub in the little town. Overall, it was your stereotypical small town diner that was essential to the quaint atmosphere of the town.

"More coffee?" Carol was startled from her thoughts by the blonde waitress who often worked the morning shifts. She looked to be about the same age as herself, pretty, but perhaps a bit weary. The waitress, her nametag said Andrea, was already filling her cup again, not waiting for Carol's answer.

"You find what you're looking for?" Andrea gestured towards the classifieds as a confused look spread over Carol's face.

"Oh, uh, no not really. I'm looking for a job."

"You're new in town right? I've never seen you in here before a week ago. What kind of job you looking for?" Carol felt her face heat as she was reminded just how much she stood out here as the newcomer.

"Anything, really. I don't have much experience and I just need something to pay the bills. Girl's gotta eat, right?" She tried for a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Her dwindling cash supply was really starting to wear on her attempts to be optimistic.

"Well, if you really mean anything, we're hiring here. It's more so for morning shifts, but if you don't mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn to work, I could get Irma out here to see you." Carol gaped at her, unsure if she had heard her correctly. Mutely she nodded her head and tried for the smile again. Andrea returned it with an awkward smile of her own and a slightly skeptical look before excusing herself. Five minutes later Irma Horvath came out bustling from behind the counter greeting her regulars as she went.

"You're the girl looking for a job?"

"Yes ma'am, uh, Andrea mentioned the position. My name's Sarah Williams." Irma nodded thoughtfully as she slid into the seat across from her. Carol's hands were shaking under the table as she gave her name. She'd only had to introduce herself to a couple of people since coming to Ashwicke and it was still a surreal feeling.

"You'd be working with Andrea on the morning shift, mainly, but sometimes you'll have to swing a dinner shift. You seem like a nice girl, a little quiet though. You think you can handle a hungry crowd this size?" Carol wasn't sure how Irma had already gotten a read on her in just under a minute, but she wasn't going to question it. Irma seemed like the no nonsense type, but with a motherly air and she supposed she probably just had a knack for people.

"I've dealt with my fair share of demanding people before. I'm sure I could get the hang of it." She tried to sound nonchalant but assertive of her abilities. She really needed this job and she couldn't afford for Irma to think she couldn't handle it.

"Anything I need to know?" _Well, that's a loaded question, _Carol thought. She definitely wasn't going to go into that territory, but she figured she should still be as honest as possible.

"I don't have any experience in the food industry. Or customer service. Or really any experience at all, but I'm a –"

"Honey, can you make coffee?"

"Um… Yes, and I – "

"Can you _pour_ coffee?"

"Yes, and I can – "

"Are you able to write?"

"Yes."

"Then sugar, that's all the experience you need. You're hired. You can start Monday morning, be here at 4:30, we'll have you fill out the paperwork then." Irma smiled and nodded at her approvingly before excusing herself to return behind the counter, leaving Carol a bit dumbfounded at the promptness of their exchange. Yes, Irma was definitely a no nonsense kind of woman.

Andrea smiled at her as she brought her bill to her booth.

"Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other then."

"Thank you, for helping me get the job."

"It wasn't a big deal. I'm the one who's gonna have to work with whoever they hire, might as well try and find someone I can probably stand to be around." A nearby customer was gesturing for more coffee and Andrea smiled apologetically before wandering off to care for her customers.

Carol smiled to herself as she left the diner, feeling lighter than she had in years. Things were quickly falling into place for her here and she could only hope that things continued to go smoothly. It felt dreamlike, how quickly everything was changing, but Carol was thankful for her luck nonetheless. She had a few days before her first day of work at the diner and she resolved herself to settling into her new apartment as much as possible before then. She was happy to have things going her way for once, and she was happy to be doing something for herself. That was all she could ask for at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**So here's the third chapter. I'm not sure how I feel about this one, but it sets some things up for the future, so there you have it. Just to clarify, we know Carol as Carol, but everyone she meets will know her as Sarah, so they'll address her as such of course. Hopefully that doesn't get too confusing, but if it does let me know and I'll try to make it clearer in future chapters! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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When Carol had trudged to the diner at 4:30 that Monday morning, she was sure she was going to pass out from exhaustion the second she had the chance to sit down. Her weekend had been busy, trying to settle into her new apartment as best she could without actually having anything to settle. She'd bought a couple pieces of furniture at the town's thrift shop, cheap pieces of junk, but all she could really afford. At least now her apartment had a couch and a dining room table with chairs. She was still working on the bed and mattress situation, so she was currently stuck sleeping on the couch which wasn't doing her back any favors.

She'd gotten up at 3:30 that morning in order to get ready and still leave herself enough time to walk down to the diner. She didn't have a car and probably wouldn't have enough money to buy one any time soon, so walking was her means of transportation when the bus wasn't running and she was glad that Ashwicke was so small that that didn't make for too much of a task. Still, walking in early morning darkness wasn't exactly Carol's idea of fun, so she was more than happy to safely make it to the diner. Dale Horvath was sitting on a bar stool at the counter, sorting through a packet of papers. He turned when she came in, smiling at her and Carol was reminded of her grandfather, that natural friendliness just radiated from him.

"Mornin'! You must be Sarah. Irma told me you'd be starting today, so I was just getting sorted through all the paperwork for you." He shook her hand and gently pulled her towards a seat.

"There's not too much information we need, just the basics. Andrea should be in shortly, she'll be training you today. Diner opens at 6, that's when you get most of the construction guys in here for breakfast. Morning rush starts at 7:30, lasts a couple of hours. When we're slow you'll be taking care of clean up, filling condiments, things like that. We'll have you on the morning shift so you'll work 5 to 2, you get an hour for lunch. Anytime you want to switch shifts with another girl, just clear it with me or Irma, whoever's here. We don't mind it, just like to know what's going on around here." Dale rambled on as Carol went through the paperwork, nodding mindlessly.

"There's also a 30 day probationary period. We've never had to worry about that much, but it's precautionary. You never know when someone's going to be causing problems with customers or the other girls. Though, I doubt you'll be causing problems for us." He chuckled good naturedly and Carol returned it with a small smile of her own as she pushed the paperwork and pen back towards Dale.

"Well Sarah, it looks like you are officially the newest employee of Irma's Diner! I'll show you around and we'll get you your uniform and apron."

Carol felt the buzz of excitement and anxiety as Dale gave her a tour, explaining the layout of the floor and moving on to the kitchen and back areas. She kept trying to wipe the sweat from her palms onto her pants, but she couldn't seem to shake her nerves. She'd never had a job before, not even a part-time one when she was in school. Her parents had provided well enough for the family and they had insisted that she focus on her studies, so getting a job had never been a focus for her. It was exciting though, the idea of earning her way, getting a paycheck, taking care of herself. Self-sufficiency was a strange concept, but one she felt she could adjust to quite easily.

"Size small, right?" Carol snapped her head up, finding that she'd let her thoughts take over for a moment too long. She blushed while stuttering out an apology.

"Don't worry about it. There's a lot to take in with a new job, it's easy to get distracted. I was saying that the uniform is pretty casual here. Nice jeans, no holes or rips, and one of our polo shirts with the diner's logo. The shirts are short-sleeved, but you're allowed to wear a sweater over it when we hit the cooler months. Size small, right?" This time she nodded as he handed her three prepackaged shirts.

"If you need more, we keep them back here, so just ask. And here's the apron. You'll have two, so just alternate them when one gets too dirty."

"Trust me, by the end of today, you'll already need to wash one of them." Both Carol and Dale turned their attention towards Andrea as she spoke from her place against the doorframe.

"Mornin' Andrea. I'm just about done showing Sarah around the place. Sarah, why don't you go ahead and change in the restroom while I talk to Andrea about your training?" Carol nodded and smiled in greeting to Andrea as she passed her on her way out the room.

Once she'd changed her shirt and tied her short hair up she found Andrea waiting by the counter for her, a name tag in hand that she clipped onto Carol's apron for her. Carol felt a moment of confusion and panic flare up as she read the name Sarah on her chest, and hoped that it didn't show on her face. She really needed to keep her calm if that was how she was going to be known from now on.

"So Dale's already shown you around, not that there's much to show. We start an hour before open and we pretty much just set the floor up for the day. It's pretty basic stuff, putting out the silverware and napkins, grind the coffee for the day, set out the plates for the cooks. You'll get the hang of it pretty quick, I'm sure. So what do you think so far?"

"Dale seems pretty nice, Irma too. And you, of course. I've never been a waitress before, so I'm kind of nervous, but I'll try my best.

"Dale and Irma are the best. Irma's a real ball buster. She can be a little brisk, but she's really the nicest person you'll ever meet, so don't take anything she says too seriously. And Dale's like a dad to me. I've worked here for almost ten years, since I was in high school. It's not the best job you could ever ask for, but everyone's like family here and it's fun."

"That's nice, that you're so close to everyone here."

"Well, that's kinda what you get with Ashwicke. Most people know each other and most people like each other. Cut and dry, plain and simple."

"Have you lived here a while?"

"All my life. My parents and grandparents were all born here too, it's a family town. Which is why I'm so curious about you." Carol was baffled. As far as she knew, no one had ever been _curious_ about her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we've had a few new folks come around with all of the expansion and updating from the construction, but most of them keep to themselves. Why did you move here?"

"Well, I guess I was just looking for a change in scenery." Andrea eyed her skeptically, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, I don't know if Ashwicke's gonna give you what you're looking for, but to each their own I guess. Where'd you come from, if Ashwicke's your idea of a change of pace?"

"Just a few hours up north." Andrea looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate.

"It was just a suburban living kind of place, not too small, not too big. It just wasn't what I wanted for myself anymore." She knew she was being vague, but she couldn't risk giving herself away so early on. It wasn't that she was worried about anyone learning her secrets in particular, just that too much information shared meant more of a chance for something to find its way back to Ed. It wasn't unreasonable to think that someone could have a connection to him or one of his friends, or that someone might say too much if Ed came looking for her. It was better to play it safe, she decided, at least for now. Besides, she didn't need a whole new town of people to hear about her life with Ed and start to think of her differently because of it. Her life was different now, and she wouldn't have her past affect her future here.

"Any family?"

"No. My parents are passed and I never had any siblings or close extended family."

"Well, if you don't have anything to tie you down, then I guess it's easier to just pick up and move." Andrea had apparently decided to let the matter rest with that, thankfully.

Their hour of morning prep passed by quickly as they chatted lightly, getting to know each other a little bit better. Carol learned that Andrea lived in an apartment in town with her younger sister Amy and that she had a fiancé named Milton who she was still trying to set a date with for their wedding. She found that she actually liked Andrea. She was funny, smart and pretty laidback, though Carol thought she could recognize a streak of assertiveness that ran pretty deep.

The diner was dead for the first few minutes after opening, but it wasn't long before two men walked in, police officers by their uniforms, and took seats at the counter. Andrea motioned for Carol to follow her as she went to take their orders.

"Morning boys, how're you doing today?"

"Oh, we're just fine, as always. You got a new waitress now?" The officer with thick black hair and a prominent nose nodded towards her in acknowledgement, smiling and offering his hand.

"Yep, this is Sarah. I'm training her for the morning shift." Carol shook hands with both men as Andrea continued, motioning to the officers respectively as she spoke.

"Sarah, this is Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes, the finest enforcers of the law that Ashwicke has to offer." Shane snorted as Rick chuckled pleasantly, obviously used to Andrea's sarcasm.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah. You new to town?" Rick smiled politely as Shane already started in on his coffee.

"Yeah, just moved here about a week and a half ago. Still working on getting settled in." Carol knew how to talk to police officers, she'd had enough experience thanks to her marriage. Just smile politely, make small talk, nod your head when appropriate, maybe even laugh when the timing was right, and they'd never suspect something was amiss. Or they'd suspect it but choose to let it slide. The police force back in her old city had been lacking in many ways, but Carol could tell that at the very least, Rick and Shane were real people that had a connection to the town they protected. They genuinely cared, that much she could see from how they spoke to both her and Andrea.

Andrea took their orders, briefly explaining to Carol how to write the order out on the ticket and to deliver the order to the window. This process went on as more customers entered, pour the coffee, make introductions and small talk, write the orders, move on to the next customer. Andrea knew every customer by name, an ability that Carol hoped to acquire quickly enough, and seemed generally very well liked by her regulars. Everyone she met had been friendly and Carol felt a warmth fill her every time Andrea introduced her. These people seemed genuinely kind and welcoming, and even the ones who weren't all that interested in meeting her were kind.

"Okay, Sarah, this next customer is a quick one, you get in and get out. I'll introduce you quickly, but we don't really stick around for this one, okay?" Andrea was talking about a rough looking man that had taken a seat in a corner booth at the back of the diner. His hair was dirty blond, almost brown, and he was dressed in the uniform of the other construction workers. He had the physique to match his line of work and his face was attractive, to say the least. While he looked normal enough, Carol noticed that he didn't really look at anyone as he sat alone, a scowl causing the edges of his mouth to curl. He started playing with the salt shaker as the waitresses approached him.

"Morning Daryl, here's your coffee. This here is Sarah, she's training to be the new waitress on the morning shift." He didn't look at her or Andrea as he grunted out something that Carol took as his way of a greeting.

"Well, your food will be up in a bit." Another grunt and Andrea was ushering Carol away from the table.

"He's a real Georgia peach, that one." Andrea was shaking her head in derision as she wrote his order out on her notepad.

"Well, he's quiet I guess. But he can't be that bad, right?" Carol wasn't sure why Andrea was so unsettled by the man. He wasn't much of a talker, and probably not much of a people person, but that didn't really warrant Andrea's earlier warnings about him.

"Sarah, trust me. Daryl Dixon is bad news. You don't want to deal with him anymore than you have to. Let's just leave it at that, alright?" Carol agreed, sensing that this was a touchy subject.

"Look, Daryl's an easy customer. You bring him his coffee, let him know his order's going in, bring him his food, give him the bill, get him out. Most days you don't even have to talk to him much. His order's always the same, the breakfast sample platter with bacon and the eggs scrambled. That's all you need to know about Dixon."

The morning shift went on and Carol was starting to get the feel of how the shift flowed, gaining more confidence with every table she served. As the rush picked up, Andrea gave Carol a little more slack and trusted her to deliver orders and refill coffee.

"Sarah, that's Dixon's order, can you take it out while I seat the group that just came in? And take the coffee pot too, he usually needs a refill by the time his food's ready."

With the plate in one hand and the coffee pot in the other, Carol made her way to the corner booth, stopping to refill a couple of mugs on her way. As she neared Daryl, she wasn't prepared for him to look up from his coffee mug to stare her straight in the eyes, blue on blue. The fact that he was actually gazing at her, paired with the look she saw behind his eyes oddly shocked her and for a second she felt herself stumble forward. That instant was all she needed to make a fool of herself however, as she managed to practically throw the plate of food forward onto the table, directly in front of Daryl. As if the aggressive delivery weren't bad enough, Carol managed to catch herself with one hand against the tabletop while simultaneously spilling the remnants from the coffeepot onto the table and the man himself.

Before she could even react, Daryl sprung up and away from the table, cursing loudly as the hot coffee seeped into his clothes.

"The fuck!? You can't pour a fucking cup of coffee?" He was pulling fistfuls of napkins out from the dispenser, trying to soak up some of the coffee on his pants. Carol shook herself from her daze and grabbed some as well, trying to dab at the front of his shirt until Daryl jerked away from her, falling backwards onto the seat of the booth.

"Don't touch me! Jesus, just fucking don't – "

"I'm so sorry, it was an accident! I don't know what happened, I just tripped, oh God." Carol was alternating between mopping up the table with already soaked napkins and trying to help Daryl clean himself up, but neither endeavor was working out well for her.

"Get the hell away from me woman, Jesus! Ya done enough!" He managed to sit up in the booth and pushed himself forward, away from the table and Carol. Digging into the pocket of his jeans he pulled out several crumpled bills and threw them onto the table, making sure to avoid the puddle of coffee that Carol hadn't managed to clean up yet.

"Stupid bitch." And with that, he pushed past Carol and stormed out of the diner, the little bell above the door jingling harshly as it slammed shut behind him.

Carol bit her lip and tried to hold back tears as she desperately mopped at the coffee on the table with napkins, too aware of the eyes of every customer on her back as she did so.

"There are rags in the back, and you'll probably need a mop for the floor over here. Go take a moment to calm down and then you can come clean this up, okay? It was an accident, honestly, it could have happened to anyone. Daryl's an asshole, just ignore him." Andrea was behind her now, grabbing Daryl's dirty dishes and the money from the table.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make a mess. I'll clean it up and get right back out here to help."

"Sarah, don't worry about it. Shit happens, you just gotta deal with it when it does. I can handle the floor for a bit. Go ahead and clean this up and take your break, the rush is almost over anyway." She patted Carol on the back, smiling at her reassuringly before hurrying off to attend to the other customers.

Carol quickly disappeared behind the counter to the janitorial room. As she dug a couple of clean rags from a laundry bag and filled a bucket with some water and cleaning solution she couldn't help but let loose a couple of small sobs. She was used to verbal abuse from Ed, but hearing it from someone else was a whole different story and Daryl's words had hit her like an anvil. Never before had anyone other than Ed ever spoken so cruelly to her and it just served to emphasize Ed's opinions of her in her mind. She was determined not to let herself wallow for too long, though. A couple of tears she would allow, but she had a job to do and she wasn't going to let her insecurities get in the way of her key to self-sufficiency. She may have screwed up, but that asshole be damned, she wouldn't let his words ruin her. As she walked out with her mop and bucket, eyes a little red and puffy but relatively dry, she wasn't sure which asshole she was damning more at that moment, Ed or Daryl.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, okay, so long time no see! Originally I had meant to update after the craziness of the holidays died down, but then classes started back up and this quarter is seriously kicking my butt, going to school full time and working over 30 hours a week. My school is on the quarter system so instead of having 2 15 week semesters, we have 3 10 week quarters which means that we move FAST through all the material. I finally had a day to actually sit and write though, and this chapter kind of ended up just happening, which is great. Seriously, I feel so relieved to have this next chapter out to y'all and even though I don't know when I'm going to have a good chunk of time to write next, I hope that the next chapter doesn't take too long. You guys are all wonderful with your reviews, they make my day! I hope there aren't too many people who've lost interest due to the wait. Again, you guys are amazing and I hope you like this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

"I know that it was really embarrassing and all, but I have to say, you totally made my morning."

"Gee, thanks Andrea, you're so supportive."

"Hey, I have to find my entertainment somewhere, don't I?" Andrea smirked as she stole a piece of bacon from Carol's plate. The waitresses were sitting at the end of the diner counter, trying to make the most of their hour lunch. Carol had wanted to avoid the topic of her morning coffee calamity, but Andrea had latched onto the topic like a baby with a pacifier, and she didn't seem to be ready to drop it anytime soon.

"Honestly, Sarah, seeing Daryl Dixon wearing half a pot of coffee is one of my all time favorite moments. If anyone deserved to be the casualty to that accident, it's him. The guy's trouble, he proved that with how he acted over the situation."

"I spilled hot liquid all over the guy, how exactly do you expect him to react kindly to that?"

"That coffee was lukewarm, at best."

"That's not exactly the point, Andrea." Carol couldn't help but chuckle as Andrea cocked an eyebrow in amusement.

Work had kept the incident off her mind for the remainder of the morning, but now that she had a chance to sit down and relax, the embarrassment seemed to have increased tenfold. Her other customers had been very sympathetic, some sharing stories of their own embarrassing work stories, but it didn't help ease the tight anxiety in her gut. The look on Daryl's face was burned into her brain and there was just something about his expression that she couldn't shake. As odd as it seemed, when he had looked at her for the first time, she saw a flicker of insecurity flash across his face that she recognized first hand. It had scared her, honestly, seeing that look in someone else's face, feeling that tug of familiarity.

"Look, Sarah, don't worry about it. I've said it before, I'll say it again, Daryl Dixon is bad news and so not worth your time."

"I don't understand what you have against him. He didn't seem _that_ bad, just quiet. Keeping to yourself doesn't make you a bad person." Andrea wasn't the only one who seemed to have a strong disliking for the gruff man, practically every customer she'd helped after the accident had shown disdain for him as well. Everyone had tried to reassure her and comfort her, insisting that Daryl was always causing or finding trouble. She hadn't gotten that vibe from him at all, but if everyone seemed to feel that way about him then they couldn't all be wrong, could they?

"He's just a bad guy."

"You know, you keep saying that, but you never seem to have a reason as to why you believe that." Carol huffed with impatience.

"There's reason enough, believe me. Dixon's lived here all his life, he and his brother got into a lot of trouble growing up. His brother Merle was always getting arrested, always drunk, and always doing drugs. He and Daryl got into fights all the time when they were younger in school, and Merle was known for starting his fair share of bar fights. The Dixon family is just an angry bunch of rednecks who live to stir shit up. And they've done some serious shit, Sarah, so don't underestimate Dixon."

"I know I don't know them, but I think it sounds a bit like you're blaming Daryl for his brother's mistakes."

"You're right, Sarah, you don't know them because if you did you would say the same thing I am. Stay away from Dixon, he's dangerous. I'm serious, Sarah, stay away from the guy."

Andrea's voice had taken on a hard edge, one that Carol recognized as plain irritation. Not wanting to upset her coworker any more, Carol decided to let the conversation drop. She still doubted the seriousness of Andrea's warnings, partly chalking it all up to small town mentality, but she could keep her doubts to herself for now. No need ruining the tentative friendship she'd begun to form with the one person she'd actually spent some time with in this town.

As the women finished their meals, Irma bustled in through the front door, as loud and boisterous as she'd been the first day Carol had met her. Once she reached the counter, she clucked her tongue and swatted the countertop with a clean dishtowel.

"Now, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure I don't pay you gals to be sittin' around, gossipin' like a couple of old hens, dirtyin' up my countertops." Irma's expression was full of mock exasperation, the twinkle in her eye giving her away.

"Why, Irma, you're just jealous we're gossiping without you!" Andrea laughed as Irma aimed her dishtowel at her.

"You know the rules, you can't have any fun here unless you let me in on it." Irma winked at Carol good-naturedly before grabbing their dirty dishes to send back to the dishwasher.

"The queen has spoken, lunch time's over, back to working like dogs." Andrea hopped off her bar stool, retying her apron.

"Some days I'd rather have a dog workin' for me than you dear. They're a lot cuter, and they don't sass back."

"Oh please, you'd be lost without me."

"I could always buy a GPS. Now get, both of ya, day's not over yet!" Irma continued to swat at the women, hurrying them back to work, all three laughing in good spirits

* * *

A month had passed since Carol began working at the diner and her one month probation was finally up. She hadn't really had much reason to be concerned about her mandatory probationary period, but nonetheless it was a relief to know that it was over and that she was still able to provide for herself. The month had passed quickly and not much had changed. Carol was still living in a shithole apartment with little to no furniture, though thankfully now she could say that she was happily sleeping in a bed rather than on a couch. She made just enough money to scrape by, scrounging up enough for rent and utilities and enough food for a meal or two a day. It certainly wasn't the financially comfortable life that she led with Ed, but as far as Carol was concerned, that was what made it better. She was independent and responsible now, not relying on anyone but herself, and that thought alone was enough to spur her on even on her worst days. If the tradeoff for being financially stable was being married to an abusive monster of a man, then Carol would happily walk away from that lifestyle any day, now that she knew she had it in her to make it on her own.

When Andrea heard that Carol's probation was finished, she immediately set to work on getting Carol to agree to a girl's night in celebration. She'd been trying to get Carol to come out of her shell more and to spend some time with the other girls that worked at the diner, but Carol had been hesitant. She was still trying to adjust to her new life and she didn't exactly have a lot of extra cash laying around to blow on a girl's night.

A darker part of Carol's mind always made sure to remind her of Ed anytime she considered going out for a night with friends. She'd hardly been allowed out of the house when she lived with Ed and any time she was out for too long or too late, he made sure to teach her a lesson to be more 'respectful' of his rules. Those memories were always enough to shake off the desire for a night out, whether she wanted them to or not. One month just wasn't enough to override several years of conditioning to follow Ed's orders. So when she found herself agreeing to spend some time out that night, she was shocked at her impulsiveness. Even as a teenager she hadn't been very spontaneous, always relying on reason and rationale to make her decisions, so this side of herself was surprising.

"Sure." That was all it took, that one little word. As soon as it left her mouth, she wanted to snatch it back and bury it deep. But it was too late, the word was hanging there in front of her, dangling and teasing her, ready for Andrea to latch onto. Regret was making her stomach churn and her breath come uneasy, but the surprise that lit up Andrea's face was just enough to suppress the urge to vomit.

"Really?" It would have been so easy to change her mind, to crawl back into hiding and pretend that there wasn't a life outside of work and her shitty apartment. It would have been easy, if it didn't mean disappointing Andrea, the only friend she had in Ashwicke. Andrea had been such a good friend to her in the short time that she'd been on her own and to disappoint her just wasn't an option, so all Carol could manage was a small nod and a smile that she knew looked like more of a grimace.

Daryl Dixon chose that moment to stalk through the door, slumping into his usual booth, purposefully avoiding looking at her. Ever since the coffee incident, the gruff man seemed to become more surly and agitated every day. The next day that Carol saw him, she had attempted to serve him, intent on apologizing again since he had had the night to cool off, but Daryl was insistent that she stay away. Carol couldn't help but consider everything Andrea had told her, and despite her gut telling her that it was all just rumor, she couldn't help but feel a little fearful of the man. If Daryl really was as much trouble as Andrea was making him out to be, he wasn't the kind of person she wanted to piss off. Andrea had taken on the task of serving Daryl, though she made it a point to do the bare minimum after his behavior towards the newer waitress. When Carol questioned her about her cold demeanor towards him, Andrea cited it purely as loyalty, and she found herself touched by Andrea's allegiance. Her only other worry about the situation was what Dale and Irma would say, but neither had mentioned it, so she figured she'd let sleeping dogs lie. This pattern had gone on since, and Carol wasn't sure Daryl would ever accept her as his server again, but as long as Andrea didn't seem to mind, it didn't really matter one way or the other.

Andrea was undoubtedly more invested in Girl's Night than Carol, as it was all she could seemingly talk about for the rest of their shifts. Beth, one of the other waitresses at Irma's, had suggested karaoke night at the local bar two blocks away which was pretty much one of the only entertaining things to do in Ashwicke. The plan had been set for Andrea to come over to Carol's apartment early to help her get ready, a crucial part of any girl's gathering apparently, and the two would drive Andrea's car to pick up Beth and her sister Maggie from Beth's apartment before heading for the bar. Carol had never met Maggie but Beth's love and admiration for her older sister was written all over her face any time she was mentioned. Andrea explained that she used to work in the diner while she was going to school, as Beth was doing now, but that she had graduated and was working at her father's veterinary clinic training to one day take over. She owned a small starter home with her fiancé Glenn in the outer suburban area of town.

The process of getting ready ended up being a lot more than Carol had bargained for when she agreed to let Andrea help her. Andrea had spent a good half hour desperately searching through Carol's closet for any suitable clothing for a night out, reluctantly settling for a dark pair of jeans that were the least baggy she could find and a dark red blouse that wasn't too ill fitting. Carol had been slightly embarrassed at her lack of appealing clothing, but Andrea hadn't made too big a fuss over it and instead had subtly suggested a shopping trip in the near future. Andrea had brought some of her own makeup, which was fortunate seeing as Carol only owned a bottle of foundation.

Life with Ed hadn't been one focused on keeping up with the latest styles or mastering the ever-evolving art form of makeup. Most of the clothes she had owned had been either about ten years outdated, too large, or just all around ugly. Any attempt of wearing makeup once their marriage had turned sour had turned into just another opportunity for Ed to mock her or rage at her for attempting to attract attention from other men. Her only allowance for makeup was the foundation, and that was only when Ed had been careless with his abuse and had noticeably marked her face or neck.

Andrea was not to be deterred, however, and happily did Carol's hair and makeup, providing friendly tips now and again that Carol thought she would actually be able to replicate, if she ever owned any makeup in the future. The whole experience left Carol feeling somewhat giddy, it had been so long since she'd had a real girlfriend. Jacqui had been amazing and was one of the most important people in Carol's life, that was simply a fact, but the two had never had a chance to actually go out and have fun with the way that Carol's life was. Her friendship with Jacqui was a deep connection, one that had an unshakeable bond, while this budding friendship with Andrea was more frivolous. It felt nice to be able to talk about the things that used to interest her when she was young and carefree, to be able to laugh and joke. Girl's Night was starting out well, and Carol was thankful for whatever had made her accept the invitation that morning.

A little after seven the two were finally ready and were already having a good time as they got in Andrea's car to drive over to Beth's. The drive wasn't long, and the bar wasn't far from any of their apartments really, but Andrea had insisted that she wasn't walking all over town in her heels and everyone had agreed that walking home after a night at the bar wasn't the safest thing to do, even in a small town.

"Hey, I think I have some gum in the glove box, could you see if you could find it for me?" Andrea was fidgeting with her purse next to her as she drove, paying little attention to Carol as she opened the compartment. Upon hearing Carol scream and feeling her jump back against her seat, she slammed the brakes in the middle of the street, eliciting several angry honks from the cars around them.

"Shit, Sarah, what the hell? The only reason you should be screaming like that is if there's a goddamn axe murderer hiding in my glove compartment."

"Not an axe murderer, but I think he left his weapon in here. I thought you said you had some gum in here, Andrea, not a gun!"

"My gun is what made you scream? Seriously? I could have caused an accident!"

"Well, I wasn't really expecting for a gun to pretty much fall into my lap! Isn't that kind of dangerous, keeping a gun in here?"

"It's only dangerous to any person who's trying to attack me." Carol gaped as her friend shrugged nonchalantly, obviously not perturbed by the gun. Andrea glanced at her before sighing heavily and turned her attention back to the road.

"Look, I know Ashwicke's a small town, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything to be afraid of. It's just a precaution, more for show than anything else. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I'm not worried about, it just… surprised me." Andrea snorted a laugh and Carol blushed.

A gun wasn't really that big of a deal, but to have one in her presence was a little off-putting. She'd never held a gun in her hands before, only seen one a handful of times, and they always made her uneasy. But if Andrea felt better having a gun in her possession, whatever the reason, who was she to question it? There wasn't time to continue the conversation, whether either girl wanted to or not, as Beth and Maggie hopped into the backseat giggling with excitement and making introductions where needed. Beth couldn't seem to stop giggling and Maggie explained that they had downed a couple of shots before getting into the car, a sure way to loosen up enough to make fools of themselves at karaoke.

"I don't know why she's gets so nervous, she's amazing! The rest of our family sounds like dying cows whenever we try to sing. Bethie got all the musical talent, there's no arguing that." Maggie clearly had the same affection for her little sister as Beth did for her, and it was nice to see such a good sisterly bond. The sisters were more than capable of filling the silence and chattered on for the rest of the drive.

As the girls grabbed a table close to the stage, Carol couldn't help but laugh as she helped a wobbly Beth to her seat. The poor girl must not have been a regular drinker and was already lamenting her choice of shoes as she could hardly stand in them in her state. Andrea, Maggie, and Beth immediately set to work on song choices, gasping and booing their opinions as they went. Carol hadn't exactly been thrilled with the idea of karaoke when it was suggested, and the idea still didn't sit comfortably with her. Hoping to get out of the prospect of actually performing, Carol offered to do a drink run as a means of distraction. Her friends hadn't paid much attention to her suggestion other than animated nods of approval and contributions of cash, so Carol wordlessly hopped down from the table and made her way to the bar, slipping into a seat.

The bar area had been crowded, so Carol hadn't thought much of it when she sat in between two men waiting to get the bartender's attention. It wasn't until she felt the person on her right stiffen and heard him curse that she thought to see who was there. Immediately a blush flared in her cheeks as she peered up at a very agitated Daryl Dixon who was warily glaring at her, his jaw tense with disapproval.


	5. Chapter 5

**So I managed to find more time than I thought I would, so here's the next bit, much sooner than I anticipated! Again, I love reading your reviews and I appreciate any and all feedback. I want to get better at this and write things that you guys enjoy, so don't be afraid to give critique or ideas. Also, I don't know how the whole beta thing works really, but if anyone is interested in doing so for this, that would be really awesome! I hate editing and so I probably miss a lot of things, so an extra set of eyes is always appreciated. So here you go, I'll see you guys next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

"You gonna keep gapin' at me all night? You look like a trout fresh from the lake." Carol snapped her mouth shut, blush deepening.  
"Sorry." She averted her eyes and found sudden interest in her fingers as she tried to ignore the fact that he was staring at her now. The bartender finally made his way over, cleaning the counter lazily. He was attractive, short dark hair and bright brown eyes. He raised his eyebrows, prominent forehead wrinkles aging his face.  
"What can I get your girl here, Dixon?" The bartender eyed her momentarily before turning his attention back to a now flustered Daryl.  
"Girl? She's not -, we ain't-"  
"I'm not his girl. Wouldn't want to be his girl." If she didn't know any better she'd say that she'd been doing shots of liquid courage right along with Beth and Maggie. The bartender barked a laugh, slamming his palm down onto the countertop.  
"Sorry for the confusion there, Sweetheart. I should've known better, this asshole doesn't do relationships, friendly or otherwise. I hardly ever see Dixon around this place, let alone with anyone, especially anyone as pretty as you." Daryl growled under his breath and Carol felt him shift beside her. Noticing the even surlier demeanor, the bartender shot Daryl a look.  
"I don't need any trouble, Dixon. You wanna start shit, go do it somewhere else."  
"I ain't the one startin' anythin', Dave. You keep runnin' your mouth though, and then we'll have a problem." Deciding it best not to poke the bear, Dave turned back to Carol, his sneer lingering a moment.

"What can I get ya, Doll?" Dave was radiating charm now, pinning her with an almost predatory gaze. Daryl snorted before taking a swig of his beer, eyeing the two.  
"Four beers, please." Carol was even more uncomfortable under Dave's gaze than she was Daryl's, if that was even possible. Dave smiled wolfishly as he took her cash, his gaze focused solely on her as he uncapped each bottle, taking too long to do so. His grip on the bottlenecks was more than a little suggestive. Chancing a glance at the man next to her, Carol could see that Daryl was watching him through narrowed eyes while trying to maintain the appearance of disinterest.  
"You need anything else, Sweetheart?" It had been a while since she'd been hit on, but it was easy to see what Dave's game was all about.  
"No, thanks."

"Well you be sure to let me know, Doll." Once he focused on a couple of men at the end of the bar, Carol let out a breath of relief.

Taking a sip from one of the beers, she looked at Daryl. He was staring at her again with mild interest, still mixed with slight distaste, not breaking eye contact even as he downed the rest of his own beer.

"Didn't take you for a girl with a lack of taste."

"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"Douchebag."

"The bartender? What about him?" Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes.  
"You let random men you ain't interested in call ya Doll like that?"  
"Well what was I supposed to do?"  
"If ya don't wan't him lookin' at ya like you're a piece of meat, ya tell him to fuck off!"

"He wasn't doing anything to hurt me, there's no reason to be rude."

"Says the chick who goes 'round spillin' coffee on people."  
"That was an accident, not me being rude."  
"I don't believe in accidents."  
"Well that's pessimistic."  
"That's life, _Doll_." Carol felt unfamiliar irritation flare up. Who was this man to claim that he knew her intentions when he probably didn't even remember her name?  
"I don't even know you, and you most certainly don't know me! You don't get to keep holding the coffee thing over my head. Yes, I spilled coffee on you. It probably hurt and I'm sure I inconvenienced and embarrassed you, but you embarrassed me too. I apologized. It was an accident, whether you think it was or not! If you want to think that I did it on purpose, fine, I won't stop you. You've got a chip on your shoulder, Dixon. You're the problem here, not me." Wide-eyed and red faced, Carol struggled to swallow.

Her voice had gradually risen and the hammering of her heart felt like it was causing her whole body to vibrate. It didn't look like anyone besides Daryl was paying her any attention, thankfully. She hadn't meant to lose her cool, but something about Daryl's attitude had flipped a switch. Years with Ed had made her into a mouse, skittish, and she'd never stood up to him, playing the role of the good little housewife. But here in this bar, one month free from the asshole who destroyed almost a decade of her life, something had to give. She was terrified, how stupid it was of her to snap at the person in town with the worst reputation, but she also felt a sense of accomplishment. She was finding a backbone.

Daryl was looked at her impassively, studying her face, as if he were searching for something.  
"Whatever." Carol waited for more, but there was none. It was frustrating, the way he'd watch her so intently but with such decided disinterest and then speak as few words as possible. She could see how he made people so uneasy. If she weren't so angry with him, she'd be trying to hide under the bar.

Carol hopped down from her barstool, grabbed the beer bottles two in each hand, and marched away to the table where her friends were waiting. In between karaoke performances, the girls chattered lightly, and Carol found that she really liked Maggie and Beth. Working with Beth, she knew the girl was sweet, but she was a few years younger, and Carol didn't know at first if they would really have anything in common. Beth was 21, attending a local college about an hour away from Ashwicke. She wanted to become an elementary school music teacher, and based on her karaoke abilities, Carol knew she had the talent for it. She was young and in love, gushing about her boyfriend Zach at any opportunity, but Carol couldn't hold that against her. She had been the same once.

Maggie was sweet too, but she had a feisty streak, there was no doubting that. Carol learned a little more about her relationship with her fiancé and naturally, there was wedding talk. Again, Carol couldn't fault the older Greene girl for her excitement. Looking at the sisters was like looking at her past self at different stages with Ed, before she had the rug pulled out from under her. She only hoped that things worked out better for Beth and Maggie than they did for her.

Several rounds of beer later, Andrea was now belting her heart out on stage to a song that Carol didn't recognize. Knowing that they would need a designated driver at the end of the night, Carol was limiting herself to just the one beer. She never much cared for drinking to begin with, and since she wasn't planning on singing, she wouldn't need the inhibition that the other three did. Halfway through Andrea's performance, Maggie turned to her, mischievously.

"What was that, anyway?" Maggie pinned her with her gaze.  
"What was what?"  
"Oh, we are so not playing that game right now. You were talking to Daryl Dixon!"  
"I was."  
"The guy who called you a stupid bitch after you tried to drown him in coffee!"  
"Yeah, I know who he is, I don't need a reminder. And how do you even know about that?" Carol turned a mock accusatory glare in Beth's direction. The younger girl shrugged innocently, trying to hide a smile.  
"Everyone in town knows about the coffee thing. But that's beside the point. You were talking to him!"  
"I already said I was, Maggie." Carol laughed as Maggie looked at her like she'd grown a second head.  
"And he just kept staring at you!"  
"He was not staring at me."  
"He definitely was, and the way he looked at you." Beth chimed in excitedly.  
"What, like he wanted the floor to open up underneath me?" Maggie and Beth exchanged a look and Carol got the strong feeling that she was missing something.

"Daryl doesn't just talk to people."

Andrea plopped into the seat next to Beth then, interrupting the train of conversation. Drinking half of her beer in one go, she pointed her bottle at Carol.

"Was Dixon being an ass again?" She focused her glare on the man's back.

"It wasn't a big deal, I handled it." It was true, she had handled it in a way, if there was anything that had needed handling.

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

"Well… I am, actually." Andrea had the good sense to look away. The table had fallen silent.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way." A group song the girls had signed up for was next on the performance list, not giving Carol a chance to say anything. She gave a half-smile and waved them on, not wanting to start an argument. Andrea's shock had put her off a little bit, but that was how Andrea was. In her time at the diner, Carol had noticed that Andrea was one to speak her mind, not always aware of what others around her would feel. She knew she meant well, there was no reason to hold a little outspokenness against her.

"I saw you and your friends could use some more drinks." Four beer bottles were slammed onto the tabletop, Dave sliding into Beth's vacant seat without invitation.

"I haven't seen you around town before, and I wouldn't forget a face like yours, so you've gotta be new here." Ten years ago she would have found Dave charming and charismatic, but having lived so long with Ed, she knew better now.

"I am."

"When did ya get into town?"

"About a month ago."

"You got any family here? People don't normally come to Ashwicke just for the hell of it."

"No family."

"Well, I see you've got yourself some friends, so you must have a job or something then."

"Yes."

"Shit, doll, I'm just trying to get to know you a little bit, no need to give me the cold shoulder." He made a grab for her shoulder, but Carol was able to shrug away from him.

"I'm not interested." And she wasn't. She could tell just by the way Dave spoke to her that he and Ed were cut from the same cloth, and she wasn't planning to have a repeat of her past mistakes.

"Doll, you don't even know me. I'm sure if you got to, though, you'd feel a bit differently." He grabbed for her wrist now, forcing Carol to turn towards him in her seat. Panicking, Carol awkwardly slid from her chair, Dave still holding onto her wrist. She tried tugging her arm back unsuccessfully, trying to pry his fingers from her arm.

"Let go! Help!"

"Sit back down, Doll, I'm not done getting to know you." His face was a mask of desire and fear exploded throughout Carol's body, all rational thought gone as Ed's face replaced Dave's. _I told you I'd find you, you stupid bitch. I'll put you in your place, once and for all, and you'll be a good little whore. You're MINE, you'll always be MINE, and I'll make Goddamn sure that you never forget it, you fucking slut._

She fell forward sharply as Dave pulled her along and every instinct Carol had told her to fight, to kick and scream, but she couldn't. All she saw was Ed, his beady bloodshot eyes and his twisted grin. She smelled him, the smell of Jack Daniels and a musky cologne she'd once found appealing but now recognized with disgust. Dave's voice was not his own either, his whole being wasn't his but Ed's. She was tugged forward again, crying out as her wrist twisted in protest, and then she was falling to the floor. Dazed, Carol looked up to see Daryl holding Dave from behind, dragging him away from her. There was yelling from all around the room, muddled as Carol could only focus on the rushing of blood in her ears.

Hands were pulling her up, helping her into a seat, nearby voices only adding to the sounds around her and her confusion. She looked on as two men forced Daryl to let go of Dave and effectively pushed him out the door. She expected them to follow him out to carry on a fight, but they slammed the door behind him instead. They went to help Dave who was now on the ground, hands clutching at his neck, face red. The hands were touching her again, trying to gain her attention, but she pushed them away and stumbled towards the door. She had no real understanding of what she was doing, she just had the need to see Daryl.

She found him leaning against the side of a rusted blue truck, smoking as if nothing had even happened. He looked up surprised when she called his name and unsteadily ran towards him, his hands reaching out to her when she skidded before him. Just as soon as he had reached out, he withdrew. Despite all the determination she had to find Daryl, she couldn't figure out what do now that she was actually looking at him. He didn't seem to know what to say either, but at least he wasn't glaring or scowling. His gaze was similar to the one right before she'd spilled coffee on him and she felt a tug of something both familiar and unfamiliar in her heart. There were so many things to say, but she couldn't figure out what a single one of them was.

"Ya alright?" Despite the gruffness of his voice, he seemed genuinely concerned.

"Thank you."

"Weren't nothin'."

"Yes, it was. You helped me when no one else did, and you don't even like me. That's not nothing." Daryl shrugged and scuffed his boot along the asphalt, not looking at her anymore. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like the tips of his ears were turning red.

"Why did you help me?" Here was a man who had called her a bitch, had shown an obvious distaste for her. She hardly knew the guy, and yet he had been the one out of all possible people to save her.

"Dave's a douchebag."

"That's it?"

"That ain't reason enough for ya? Fuckin' women, always gotta ask questions."

"It was a fair question. You don't like me, so I just wondered."

"Ya said it yourself, I don't know you. Ya sure as hell piss me off, but that don't mean I ain't gonna help you if ya need it." His reasoning was his own, and Carol struggled to understand, but he was already frustrated and she didn't want to push it. She figured it was best to be grateful he helped her, rather than harass him for an answer as to why he did it. She wanted to thank him again, thank him a hundred times, but she knew that it would just embarrass him.

"Told ya, shoulda told him to fuck off." Carol laughed, bright and clear. Daryl's face twisted into bewilderment, sending Carol into another round of laughter. She couldn't seem to stop, and before long Daryl was offering up a few chuckles of his own. The sound echoed throughout the parking lot.

"Sarah! Oh my God, Sarah, are you okay?" Andrea, Beth, and Maggie were rushing from the bar as quickly as they could. If they hadn't been so visibly distressed, Carol would have kept laughing as she watched the three stumble over each other in drunken chaos in their stilettos.

"We saw what happened, we tried to help you but you just ran off!" Andrea was the first to reach her, pulling her away from Daryl and stepping in between them as she hugged her friend. Beth and Maggie were offering jumbled words of concern, alternately hugging Carol. Daryl stood looking on, cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Thanks for helping Daryl, but we can take it from here." Andrea was still standing between Carol and Daryl, crossing her arms uncomfortably, nose wrinkled from the smell of smoke.

"Ya sure y'all will be able to make it home? Ya look a little tipsy there."

"We're fine."

"Shouldn't drink and drive."

"I said we're fine." Daryl raised his hands in mock surrender, sneering behind the cigarette as Andrea turned her back.

"Are you going to be okay to drive Sarah?" Andrea was trying to appear as sober as possible, but Carol knew how much her friends had had to drink and that Andrea was struggling. She nodded as Andrea handed her the car keys, and went to raise her hand as way of goodbye to Daryl. Before she could even raise her arm halfway, Andrea was gripping it and pulling her along towards the car.

"Don't talk to him, Sarah. I told you, he's redneck trash. You saw what he did, starting a bar fight! You don't need to hang around a guy like that." Drunken Andrea was apparently a lot blunter with her opinions, and a lot louder. Carol tried shushing her, but it only seemed to encourage her.

"No! He called you a bitch! Nobody even likes him!" There were more to her protestations, but she was beginning to slur her words and Carol could hardly understand her.

"Andrea, he was helping me, stop. You're tired, let's get you home and you can sleep, okay?"

"Stay away from him Sarah. Promise me you'll take my advice and stay away."

"Okay! Okay, I promise." She was more or less trying to appeal to a hysterical Andrea at this point. Come tomorrow morning she doubted Andrea would even remember this conversation, and things would go back to normal. Getting Andrea into the front passenger seat was a struggle and by the time she'd finished, Beth and Maggie were already in the backseat, lying down across one another.

Opening the door to the driver's side, Carol looked back for Daryl but found that he was already pulling out of the parking lot, speeding down the street. She wished she'd been able to talk to him more, to say goodbye at least. The Daryl that saved her was a Daryl that intrigued her, one that she wanted to get to know better. As polarizing as the rest of the town seemed to find him, Carol had a gut feeling that there were pieces to the puzzle that she had yet to place. Sure, he was churlish and angry more often than not, but she'd laughed with him tonight. Daryl Dixon was a lot more complicated than she had originally thought, and Carol was certain she wanted to know more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay guys, here's chapter 6. Hopefully you guys enjoy it! I'm a little worried about it, but what else is new? I can't say it enough, you guys are awesome and anytime someone follows this story or reviews it or whatever, it seriously makes my day. Much love to all of you and I hope you like it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. If I did, Hershel would still be alive and Caryl would be canon.  
**

* * *

The door slammed against the wall as Carol dragged Andrea over the threshold, the tiny room vibrating from the impact. Once the girls had a chance to sit down and allow the adrenaline from the incident at the bar to wear off, they had started to show the affects of the alcohol. Andrea had been talking incessantly since Carol had started driving, alternating between murmuring to herself and shouting her opinions to the entire car. Carol had driven to Beth's apartment first to drop off the sisters, which had been quite the challenge in itself. Maggie was confused and, evidently, aroused as she continually called out for Glenn, promising the absent man all kinds of sexual favors. By the time Carol had guided Maggie to the couch in Beth's living room, Maggie was half-way out of her top, objecting loudly each time Carol tried to pull it back into place, accusing her of attempted cockblocking.

Beth had passed out on the drive back and it took a lot of poking, prodding, and promising to get the younger woman to just wake up. As soon as she was awake enough to walk however, she started belting out country tunes in between fits of shrill laughter. There was no doubt that she'd woken at least some of her neighbors, if the little old lady next door peeking angrily from behind lace curtains was any indication.

Andrea had continued her monologue throughout this entire endeavor, seemingly unaware at one point that she was entirely alone in the car. She had started ranting about Daryl, which then turned into a tirade about Dave and feminism. Carol wasn't sure how she got to talking about her first childhood pet, but somehow the chain of conversation had led to the tale of her runaway hamster by the time she'd thrown Andrea at the couch. Her makeup was beginning to smudge, her hair was tangled, and she'd have a hell of a hangover in the morning.

Placing a glass of water and a couple of aspirin on the small end table, Carol was reminded vaguely of the many nights a drunken Ed would come home for her to deal with. She'd slept on the couch those nights; he usually collapsed on the very center of the bed, leaving no room for her. She had been thankful for those nights, the times when Ed would forget she existed and left her alone. As a teenager, Carol had fantasized about what it would feel like to sleep in the warm embrace of her future husband. As a woman, she learned that the romance movies she'd loved before were a hoax, and she fantasized instead about having nights to herself.

Carol worked on getting her friend as comfortable as possible, removing her heels and jewelry. Andrea was no help as she chose instead to stroke Carol's arm lovingly.

"You're such a good friend."

"I know, you're lucky to have me." Carol smirked playfully as she pushed Andrea back to lie down.

"You're so pretty."

"And you're so drunk. You're not going to feel well when you wake up."

"I love you. You're such a good friend."

"You've said that already." She was trying not to laugh as she pulled a knitted blanket from the back of the couch to cover Andrea. Andrea stopped petting Carol's arm and slid her hand down to grab Carol's, her grip surprisingly tight.

"I don't want him to hurt you." Carol's interest piqued at the admission.

"Don't want who to hurt me?"

"Daryl." Carol stopped fussing over her friend. Andrea was having a moment of semi-clarity, seriousness etched deep into her face.

"Daryl's not going to hurt me. He helped me tonight, remember?"

"I don't want him to hurt you." Andrea tugged at her hand insistently and childlike. Her eyelids were drooping and her lucidity was fading fast.

"He won't."

"He could." Andrea mumbled something else that Carol couldn't quite catch as she snuggled into her blanket and turned away to sleep. Carol stood starting at her for a few moments in contemplation before padding off down the hall to get ready for bed. It was far later than she had anticipated their night to go on for, and she had work in the morning. Tomorrow's shift would be hell to get through sleep deprived, but she needed the money and didn't dare consider calling out sick.

Andrea's concern was the only thing she could think about as she laid in bed, willing her mind to wind down and allow sleep to come. Andrea had seemed genuinely anxious, but Carol couldn't figure out if the alcohol was just making her paranoid or if there was something else going on. It seemed to her that there was a lot of mystery to Daryl, bad or good she didn't know. People were afraid of the man, wary and restless in his presence, even Carol had felt similarly. But he couldn't be as bad as everyone thought, not after he had helped her. She'd seen a different side to him tonight.

She wasn't sure how she felt about Daryl plaguing her thoughts, either. She found herself thinking about the man far more often than she'd like to admit, but she just had so many questions. Andrea certainly wasn't helping her interest in the matter with all of her cryptic warnings. If anything, the ambiguity of the situation just drew her in like a moth to a flame. She just hoped she wouldn't fly into the fire itself with her all her curiosity. Frustrated, Carol buried her face into her pillow, letting out a muffled cry in exhaustion. She was determined to get to the bottom of this, nosy or not. Her parents had always emphasized that it was only proper to mind your own business, and she'd generally agreed, but just this once she could afford to pry. Her sanity depended on it.

* * *

3:30 had come all too soon as Carol's alarm blared, shocking her from a dream she'd already forgotten. She'd gone through the motions of getting ready for the day and on her way into the kitchen she noticed Andrea still sleeping soundly on her couch, the aspirin and water left untouched. It was Andrea's day off, fortunately for the both of them, as Andrea was sure to feel like hell and Carol didn't want to deal with the trying task of getting a hungover Andrea ready for work. She had left her sleeping in her apartment, figuring that she'd just be waking up by the time she returned.

Carol was now two hours into her shift, struggling not to yawn in the faces of any customers. Charlotte, the other waitress on the morning shift, was picking up a lot of her slack and Carol gratefully offered to cover a shift for the girl next time she needed some time off. All she really wanted to do was crawl under a table and sleep for the next five hours. She was about to head off for her ten minute break when she saw Daryl slip through the door. He stood there for a moment, looking around the room, until he saw her. Deciding that her break could wait, she grabbed a coffee pot and headed over to fill his mug.

"Andrea's off today, so you're stuck with me for now. I'll be good with the coffee today, I promise." After last night, she thought that Daryl would be alright with her being his server and attempted a joke to feel him out. There was no real telling how he would treat her. Of all possible reactions, she hadn't expected him to merely grunt and drink his coffee, refusing to look at her. She waited a second, shifting her weight around, wondering if it would be more awkward to keep talking or to leave.

"Sorry about her last night, by the way, she can be a little over-dramatic, and being drunk didn't really help either." She smiled pleasantly. Daryl glanced at her before taking another sip of his coffee.

"You gonna put my order in any time soon? I've gotta job too, ya know."

"Right, sorry, I'll get to that right now." Chastised, Carol made a beeline for the ticket window. As she took care of her other customers, she kept glancing at Daryl, who was sitting at his booth not taking his eyes off his coffee. She hadn't expected him to be so irritable after the night before. She would have blamed it on a hangover, but he hadn't been drunk when he left, at least not that she could see. Something else had to have been bothering him, but she couldn't think of a thing that had to do with her. She racked her brain, desperate for a possible answer, but there was none. It had to have been a different issue that had him so down, a thought that brought renewed assurance in herself, and as she grabbed Daryl's order from the window, she resolved to try again.

"I'm sure you've worked up quite the appetite after everything last night, you're probably starving!" It sounded lame even to her own ears, but she didn't have anything else. As she set the hot plate down Daryl looked at her with mild astonishment.

"I save your ass one time, and suddenly ya think we're friends or somethin'." Taken aback, Carol felt her mouth drop open, lost for words. She hadn't considered the option that Daryl would still dislike her, would still treat her with such animosity.

"Did ya think we were gonna be best friends? That we were gonna laugh and talk 'bout last night like they were good ol' times? Ya best move on, I don't want nothin' to do with ya." He was speaking to her in between shoveling his food down his throat, avoiding her gaze. He was eating so aggressively that Carol worried he might choke.

"I just thought we were okay, after last night. You helped me, and we talked, and-"

"And what?" He locked his eyes onto hers now, the hard look taking the wind out of her sails.

"I just thought-"Her breath was airy and her throat was parched. What had she thought?

"Whatever the hell ya thought, ya get it outta your head."

"I don't understand why you're so angry."

"I got better things ta do with my time. You do too, apparently."

"What are you talking about?" She felt the odd urge to cry, as if she'd been betrayed, and she couldn't understand why she was reacting so strongly.

"I'm just redneck trash, remember?" It dawned on her then and she felt like she'd been plunged into ice water. A million things came to mind in that moment. She wanted to apologize, she wanted to apologize for Andrea again, she wanted to tell him that she didn't care what Andrea thought, that she didn't think he was trash. Her thought process was moving rapidly but the connection from brain to mouth was sluggish and she couldn't figure out what she wanted to say first.

"I didn't say that, and I don't-"

"Ya promised Andrea you'd stay away from me, so do me a favor and make the same promise ta me."

He was hurt, he couldn't even hide it from her. She'd never felt so ashamed and angry with herself. He'd been kind last night, in his own way, and she hadn't stood up for him. She'd allowed Andrea to influence her, and in doing so, she'd stomped all over his feelings. Maybe he had felt a connection to her last night too, had been happy to have a genuine moment with someone after growing up in a town full of people who always looked down on him. She knew what it felt like to be desperate for a lifesaver, and she'd yanked his hope for one away with one merciless promise to her friend. It didn't matter that she didn't really intend to keep her promise to Andrea, for all Daryl knew she truly meant it.

"Fine. " She wanted to defend herself, to explain her side of the story, but she couldn't find the words. She honestly hadn't expected her next encounter with Daryl to go so poorly, and she was disappointed. There had been something there last night, laughing with him in that empty parking lot, something captivating, and she'd ruined it. The thought left her feeling desolate, and she could only imagine Daryl might have felt the same. She'd hurt him and now he was rejecting her. She'd done this to herself, and that was the worst part about it.

She hadn't felt this alone and miserable since her anxiety attack at the bus station. She didn't want to leave things like this with him, but he was clearly not interested in anything she had to say. She needed time to think the matter through and come up with a way to apologize. Anything she tried to say now would undoubtedly only make things worse with him, his wound too raw. She pulled his bill from her apron pocket and haphazardly set it down on the table, practically running towards the back of the diner, signaling to Charlotte she was going on break. She just needed a moment to breathe, a moment to swallow the shame and disappointment looming over her head, and then she could find a solution to the mess she'd inadvertently made.

* * *

By the time Carol got home from her shift, Andrea was awake, sitting at her dining table with a bowl of cereal. She made quite a sight, sitting there in her clothes from the night before and her ponytail in disarray, sporting a raccoon look. Clearly, she'd just woken up and hadn't bothered to look in a mirror. When Carol told her so, she playfully flipped her off before returning her attention to her cereal. After changing out of her uniform, she walked back to the kitchen, flopping down in the chair across from Andrea. Her ominous conversation with her friend last night had been circulating through her thoughts all morning, and she was going to get some answers.

"Okay, you're going to tell me what the deal is with Daryl." Andrea looked up at her slowly, holding her gaze before pushing her bowl away, sighing irritably.

"Why can't you just trust me when I say he's a bad guy and leave it at that?"

"Because there's something you're not telling me. You keep telling me to stay away from him, but you're so vague as to why. You made me promise to stay away from him last night. You told me you didn't want him to hurt me, that he could." She leaned forward against the table, watching as Andrea covered her eyes before sliding her palms up into her hair.

"There was an… incident a long time ago." Carol gestured for her to continue.

"I told you that the Dixons were a rowdy bunch, like really bad. Daryl was never that bad when he was younger, but his brother Merle and his dad were awful. They were the kind of guys that you cross the street to avoid when you see them walking towards you. Drugs, major alcohol, lots of fighting, everybody knew how messed up they were. There was talk about the dad, Jack, abusing the boys when they were younger, but no one wanted to meddle, ya know?" Andrea stood up to rinse her bowl in the sink, trying to put some distance between herself and Carol. It sounded awful, that no one would try to help the brothers if their dad was abusive, but then, people had known Ed beat her and no one ever did anything to help her either.

"No one really knows much about the whole thing, it happened at their house and that's out on the edge of the woods."

"Well what do you know?" Andrea hesitated, looking uncomfortable before continuing.

"No one thought much of it at first, there was always something going down with that family. Jack Dixon was the meanest man, and he didn't let people forget it. Someone in town was driving past the house when they heard a gunshot. They called the police and hightailed it out of there, must have been too afraid of Jack and Merle to stick around." Andrea shook her head, a distant look in her eye as she thought back on the memory.

"The police found Jack dead, shot in the chest. Daryl was there, he was hurt pretty badly, but Merle was gone. He had taken off into the woods behind their house. The police tried to find him, but the Dixon men were practically born in those woods and they grew up hunting and tracking out there."

"So they never caught him."

"Nope. They took Daryl to the hospital and the police tried to get his story but he wouldn't tell them anything. He wouldn't even say where Merle would possibly be heading."

"Maybe he didn't know anything." Andrea scoffed, looking at her skeptically.

"Daryl was almost ten years younger than Merle, he looked up to him like he was a god. He used to follow him around like a little lost puppy. There's no doubt in anyone's mind he knows where he is."

"Did Daryl get in trouble?"

"They didn't have any evidence against him, only Merle. They kept him a few hours for questioning once he was out of the hospital, but there was nothing to charge him with."

"So if he's innocent, why-"

"I never said he was innocent."

"But if they didn't have anything against him..."

"That doesn't mean he's innocent, just that he didn't get caught."

"You believe he helped kill his own dad?"

"Some people do, some don't. It's not impossible. If it was true, the stuff about the abuse, then there's his motive right there."

"But he was hurt, how could he have done anything?"

"I don't know, I just said it wasn't impossible. Look, Sarah, I've told you everything I know." Carol nodded, slowly. She believed Andrea when she said she'd told her all she knew. After everything she'd told her so far, there couldn't possibly be anything worse for her to hold back.

"Why didn't you just tell me before? Why did you have to be so vague about it?"

"I didn't want to freak you out. You haven't been here that long, and it's kind of a lot to take in. A small town where someone murdered their own dad? It's kind of the stuff that cheesy horror movies are made out of. When you got on Daryl's bad side, I was worried that you would freak out." It started to make sense, now that she had actually gotten the basics of the story. She was pleased that she finally had unlocked a piece of the Ashwicke puzzle, but she still had questions.

From what she'd seen of Daryl, he had a nasty temper, but he wasn't a bad person. To think of him as the accomplice to a murder, it just wasn't possible for her. The fact that no one outside of the Dixon brothers knew all the details of the situation spoke volumes. Daryl's reaction this morning was made a little more clear too. Andrea's suggestion of childhood abuse and the fact that his older brother had disappeared on him could rock anyone's world and would more than explain his attitude. That kind of pain ran deep and was hard to shake.

He wasn't a bad guy, it just wasn't there. She'd known bad men, had become an expert on them, and Daryl didn't have the dark soul that was necessary. There was more to discover about the man, and she wasn't ready to give up. She could see it in his eyes when she spoke to him, that uncertainness, that wariness of others. It made sense now that she knew a bit more of his past. Carol knew there had to be more to this complicated man, and she wasn't ready to give up her efforts to break through his shell. She was determined to figure him out, if it was the last thing she did in Ashwicke.


	7. Chapter 7

**I was going to wait to put this up, but I won't have time to update tomorrow in between classes and my birthday stuff, so here ya go! Let me know what you guys think and I'll see y'all when the next chapter is finished.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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Two weeks had passed and Carol hadn't seen Daryl since he'd told her to stay away from him. He'd been avoiding the diner altogether, and Carol was beginning to wonder if she'd ever see him again. A part of her told her that it was over dramatic to consider that as a possibility, but given her luck, it wasn't an impossible outcome. She had been looking forward to seeing Daryl again since she'd gotten some more insight about him. She found herself imagining conversations with him, planning what she would say when she did see him again. There was something pulling her to him. She saw a kindred spirit, a broken person who she could connect with in a way she'd never been able to with anyone before.

She wanted to ask Andrea if she'd seen him around town at all, but given her friend's feelings towards the man, it wasn't the best idea. If anything, Andrea seemed pleased that Daryl had stopped coming in for breakfast. So she let the issue lie for a while, hoping that she'd find some other way to get some information about Daryl's whereabouts.

She was working the dinner rush with Beth that night. Charlotte had asked her to switch shifts with her, as a favor for her help on their last morning shift together. Charlotte's friends were driving to a lake house for the weekend and she took Carol's opening shift so she could leave a day early. It was a nice change of pace to be working with Beth. The younger woman was animated and funny and made the work go by quickly. Carol found she had a lot in common with her, she reminded her of herself in her college days. Beth's shift was over at 8, finishing right after the last of the dinner rush, and Carol was left to clean up and serve only a handful of customers with just one other server, a girl she'd never worked with before who was closing that night.

By the time her shift was over, it was just after 10. The streets were deserted, most everyone was at home in bed. There wasn't much nightlife in Ashwicke, and Carol found that she actually enjoyed that. Her early morning walks to work were peaceful and gave her time to get her thoughts together for the rest of the day. Andrea had offered to give her rides to work in the morning, but Carol lived close enough to the diner that she didn't feel it necessary. Initially she had been apprehensive about walking in the dark by herself, but she'd grown used to it overtime and any worries she had before were in the back of her mind. Walking at this time of night was no different.

A streetlight flickered erratically farther down her path, and for a second Carol thought she saw a shadow dodge out of the light. She stopped for a moment, staring at the spot to see if the figure would reappear. On her walks in the morning she would occasionally see someone else out on the streets, but they were always sure to make themselves known, out of common courtesy. She figured it was unlikely that anyone would be running around suspiciously, and even if they were, it wasn't doing her much good to stand in the middle of the sidewalk like a sitting duck.

Plowing forward, she picked up her pace. Her mind might have been playing tricks on her, but it couldn't hurt to walk a little faster and get to her apartment that much more quickly. She was under the flickering streetlight within minutes and she unthinkingly held her breath, trying to make as little noise as possible. Her breath was knocked from her sharply when she felt arms snatch at her biceps, pinning them back behind her roughly. Before a scream could rip its way from her throat, a hand clamped over her mouth and she felt hot breath blowing into her ear.

"You weren't very nice to me at the bar, Doll. How's about we kiss and make up, huh?" Dave. Her back slammed against a chest and it jolted her into awareness. Dave was behind her, he was the shadow she saw under the light. She hadn't imagined it.

He twisted her around to face him, a wretched smile spreading across his face.

"The redneck's not around to protect ya this time, Darlin'. If I remember correctly, you owe me a little fun." Her breathing was labored under his palm and instinctively she bit into the rough skin, causing Dave to loosen his grip, just enough for her to pull back and regain use of her arms.

She had little self-defense knowledge, most of what she knew was basic, but effective. Screaming in the hopes that someone would hear her, Carol swung a fist into Dave's nose, pushing upward with as much force as she could muster. Her knee slammed into his groin and as he doubled over from the impact, she raised her knee again, connecting between his eyes. She was thrashing wildly, focused only on her attacker, hitting any part she could. Dave fell to his knees, crying out as he clutched his face, and Carol saw her chance to run, tearing off down the street in what she hoped was the direction of her apartment.

She was sobbing as she ran, shaken from the ordeal. Before Dave had spoken, she had briefly considered the possibility that Ed had found her.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Shrieking, Carol turned and reached out again to fight against her attacker, unseeing. She made contact, she didn't know where, pounding her fists into any body part she could.

"Sarah! Sarah, stop! I'm not going to hurt you! Stop!" Her attacker was yelling, grabbing hold of her wrists to cross them in front of her. She tried to pull away from him, to kick out but she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. The strong hands moved to grip her arms, steadying her, relaxing their hold once she was stable.

"Sarah, it's me, Daryl. It's just me. It's okay." His voice was gentle and soft, like he was talking to a frightened animal. Carol blinked away blinding tears, barely making out his rugged features.

"Daryl?" She choked on the word.

"Come on, it's okay." He was leading her to his truck, opening the passenger door for her, helping her in. She didn't even see him cross around the front of the car, the next thing she knew he was next to her.

"I heard screamin' and saw Dave back there on the ground. Saw you jus' down the street, figured he went after ya. I've been callin' after ya for a full minute now, had ta park the truck ta come get ya." His eyes searched her face, noting the tears and the trembling chin.

"Did he… uh, he didn't… are you –"

"He just grabbed me. I hurt him more than he hurt me." Physically, at least. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl nod and scratch his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, tell me where ya live, and I'll take ya home. Or we can go to the police, if ya want?" Did she want to go to the police? She knew it was her responsibility to report him, but she didn't want to deal with this problem anymore. She just wanted to go home, curl into her bed, and sleep. The most she could do at this point was shake her head. She was beginning to quake, her body going into shock. If she hadn't fought against Dave, who knew what he would be doing to her right now.

"Just point me in the right direction, I'll figure out how ta get ya home." Her mind was still reeling, she had no idea which side was up, let alone where she lived. She shook her head again.

"Do ya want me to take ya to Andrea's? Where does she live? Or someone in your family?" Fresh tears were stinging her eyes. Why couldn't she pull herself together, why couldn't she remember? She could see Daryl getting frustrated, and it made her more upset.

"Fuckin'- You ain't my problem!" Daryl slammed his palms against the steering wheel, snorting angrily as he turned to stare out the driver's side window, brow furrowed. Carol sat beside him, wringing her hands, contemplating if she should get out of the car and just walk. Her mind was still on lockdown, but maybe memory would allow her feet to carry her back to her apartment. She made a grab for the handle, but before she could pull and wait for the give, the engine started and Daryl was pulling away from the curb.

"Where are we going?" She sounded like a child, lost.

"Put your seatbelt on." She did as she was told, watching as the center of town disappeared in the side mirror. They drove towards the woods and for one terrifying moment, Carol's mind took her to her dining room table sitting with Andrea, listening to the story of Jack Dixon's murder. Common sense overrode her panic, however, when she remembered that Andrea had said that Daryl lived on the edge of the woods. Minutes later, she was relieved to see a small home come into view. It looked like a normal house, a little rundown, but normal. Not the kind of horror movie house a murderer would live in.

By the time Daryl had parked the car, Carol was calm enough to let herself out and follow him inside. With a grunt and a gesture to his couch for her to sit, Daryl disappeared down a hallway to the back of the house. The room was bare, no art or decorations, just a couple of pictures on the fire place mantle. Taking a closer look, Carol saw a picture of what looked to be a younger Daryl taking a piggyback ride on an older boy's back. The second picture was of a middle-aged woman with dirty blonde curls and warm brown eyes. She had a beautiful smile, and her features were soft and classically pretty. She was holding a baby in her arms, contentedly swaddled in a blanket.

"Ya can stay here tonight. I changed the sheets on the bed for ya. I'll take the couch and take ya home in the mornin'." Startled, Carol jumped back from the hearth.

"I can take the couch, you can have your bed. I wouldn't feel right-"

"Ain't lettin' ya sleep on the couch, it'll be the worst night's sleep ya've ever had." He disappeared into another room, what looked to be the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses, motioning with the bottle for her to sit.

He filled one of the shot glasses and offered it to her, but she hesitated. She'd never tried whiskey, not being a big drinker. He set it on the coffee table and pushed it towards her, then turning to fill his own.

"It'll calm your nerves, you're pretty shook up." She hadn't even noticed she was still shaking. She looked to his glass and he shrugged.

"Ain't no fun in drinkin' alone." He tossed his shot. Grabbing for her own, Carol followed suit, wincing at the burn in her throat. It ached, but it was a welcome feeling, steadying. She placed her shot glass on the table, pushing it towards him for another.

"'Ay, I didn't say ya could drink the whole damn bottle." He filled her up nonetheless and again after she slammed the second shot down. They were silent as they drank and after going through half a bottle together, Carol stopped him from filling her glass again, giggling tipsily. Daryl appeared to be fine, tipsy at best, but she was pushing her limits. She hadn't been drunk since she turned 21 and she'd forgotten just how odd of a sensation it was. She swayed in her seat, placing her hand on Daryl's knee when she got dizzy. The expression on Daryl's face set her off into roaring laughter and she fell back into the couch gracelessly. Daryl looked on in amusement and sat back himself.

"Andrea told me about you." The words slipped out before she even knew they were there and the alcohol churned achingly in her stomach.

"Not surprised, bitch knows how to run her damn mouth."

"She didn't tell me for a long time." If that surprised him, he didn't show it.

"So what do ya think, then? Think you're drinkin' with a man that'd kill his own daddy?" He leaned forwards and over her, pinning her in place. If she hadn't had so much to drink, she might have been frightened.

"What?" His frankness had thrown her for a loop, as did his proximity. She should have felt threatened, she'd been in similar positions with Ed, but she wasn't. Instead, she took the time to notice the appealing ripples of his bicep muscles as he held himself over her.

"Do you think I did it?"

"I barely even know you."

"Don't matter. Do you think I did?" His eyes locked her in place, drowning her in blue steel. His face was so close to hers that she could smell the whiskey on his breath, or maybe it was her own. He breathed steadily, the slow puffs ghosting over her face, making her lightheaded.

She hardly knew this man, and in the short while she had known him, they'd been on the roller coaster ride from hell. They'd gone through so many stages from hatred to toleration to this kind of quasi-friendship. He'd helped her twice now, was there for her when she was distraught. He was rough and quick to anger, but he'd shown her softness in his kindness that seared her heart. Could he have murdered someone, his own father? Andrea had said he was capable of anything, but did Carol herself believe that?

"No." The word floated into the space between them, hovering in the silence. His gaze held her still. She was captive to the steel, until it softened ever so slightly. There was just a little less intensity in his eyes and if she hadn't felt so enraptured by this man before her in that moment, she would have completely missed it. Daryl Dixon was a man of great emotion, but bearer of a stone mask.

Daryl pulled back and instantly Carol missed his warm breath on her face. For a split second, she considered closing the gap between them, to do what she wasn't sure, but the thought vanished before she could process it.

"Okay." Daryl sat next to her, aloof. But Carol could see his satisfaction. She could see the small hint of pleasure, saw it in the brightness of his eyes and the tiniest upturned corner of his mouth. She saw it in the way he relaxed his jaw, and the way his eyebrows pulled together and raised just barely, almost in disbelief. She'd pleased him with her admission, and she wondered just how long he'd felt the weight of occupying people's minds as a murderer, how long that title had been suffocating him. She didn't see him as a murderer, but maybe as a lost soul.

"I think there's a lot that people don't know about you and about what happened."

"I could say the same for you. Just come to town one day, no family or anythin'." Blue on blue.

"You tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine." He narrowed his eyes, contemplating her proposition. The whiskey was making her bold, though she felt undoubtedly more sober now than she had a minute ago. Coughing, Daryl stood, taking the bottle of whiskey and shot glasses back to the kitchen.

"Think ya've had enough for the night. Don't need ya gettin' sick on me."

Coming back to the living room, Daryl nodded for her to follow him down the hall and led her to the bedroom at the back of the house, steadying her as she wobbled like a child learning to walk. Like the living room and the hallway, the bedroom was sparsely decorated, holding just a bed, nightstand, and a dresser. He hadn't been lying when he said he'd just changed the sheets, she could still see the folded lines indented in the cotton material, spread flat after what had probably been years of disuse.

"No work tomorrow, Saturday and all, so I'll take ya home whenever ya wake up. If ya need anythin', I'll be on the couch."

"Thank you. For doing this, and letting me stay here."

"Ya needed help." She nodded. He certainly was an odd one. He ran around town, angry and threatening, but he'd been one of the most helpful people she'd met in Ashwicke. He was virtually the definition of an antihero.

"I'll let ya get some sleep, ya can barely stand up straight." He made for the door, but stopped, shoulders tense. He turned back to her, a pained look on his face as he avoided her eyes.

"I'm sorry, 'bout how I acted in the car. And the diner. Both times." He was toying with his hands. Apologizing was hard enough, but for a man like Daryl Dixon, it must have felt torturous. Yet here he was, acting like a chastised child.

"Thank you." She smiled genuinely, crossing the room towards him, giving his hand a squeeze, earning her a self-conscious glance. She released him, fingers tingling from the heat of his calloused palm. They stood watching each other, an air of serenity blanketing them.

"Goodnight." Carol was the first to break the silence, taking a small step back to give him room.

"Night." He ducked his head and hurried from the room, grabbing a change of clothes on the way out, leaving her in the dimly lit room. Removing her shoes and turning off the light, Carol crawled under the sheets and tried to hold back her drunken laughter at the thought of being in Daryl Dixon's bed. If Andrea knew where she was, she'd have a heart attack. She couldn't explain it, but she felt a sense of safety with Daryl. He was practically her very own superhero, with the way he always managed to find her in her moment of need.

Her eyes were heavy as she snuggled into the comforter, which she noticed, smelled of bright, clean soap and the earthy scents of the forest. Replaying the events of the last few hours in her mind, Carol could hardly wrap her mind over the change in her relationship with Daryl. Were they friends now? Did Daryl even do friends? If she'd thought she'd had a lot of questions about the man before tonight, she was drowning in them now. She just hoped that time and patience would get her the answers she greatly desired and resolve at least some of the mystery surrounding the man that she couldn't stop thinking about.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here you go guys, let me know what you think. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews for the last chapter, and the birthday wishes. I enjoy reading all of your comments, it really revs up my motivation to write. Enjoy and I'll see you next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

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Swallowing thickly, Carol moaned as her head throbbed, brain threatening to break through her skull. The light from the window was blinding, causing waltzing white dots to obstruct her vision. She could only make out bits and pieces of her surroundings, but she knew she wasn't in her apartment and fear gripped her as memory struggled to catch up. After an agonizingly long time, she remembered the night's events. She was in Daryl Dixon's house, in his bed no less. She was tangled in sheets and fought to free herself, her head spinning and stomach churning from her efforts. Her mouth was bone dry and her tongue was thick and heavy, making her gag.

Desperate not to be sick in Daryl's room, she made an effort to roll towards the edge of the bed. Rolling too far, she crashed to the ground in a heap, a mess of limbs and bedding. Faintly, a sharp pain in her left wrist registered in the back of her mind but her stomach couldn't wait. Without a second thought, Carol gathered the sheets around her unceremoniously and stumbled out into the hallway. There were two other doors in the hall and she lunged frantically for the one closest to her, praying for a bathroom. She was in luck and immediately she was kneeling in front of the toilet, seconds to spare.

She was dying. She had to be. Her stomach was turning inside out and making its way up her throat. Her chest was on fire, the whiskey from last night burning more coming up than it did going down. Her condition did nothing to ease the pounding in her head and the pulsating rhythm behind her eyes. In a moment of temporary reprieve, she recognized a booming, guttural laugh. Bloodshot eyes turned to see Daryl leaning in the doorframe, still in sleep clothes, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

"Can't even hold your liquor. Lightweight."

"Don't yell." The sheets fell around her lower half as she curled herself around the toilet bowl, moaning as she fought off a wave of nausea.

"Don't go gettin' sick all over my sheets. I'll make you take 'em down to the river and hand wash 'em yourself." Something told her he was serious.

"Coffee's ready in the kitchen, and some toast if you're hungry. It'll settle your stomach and help that hangover you're nursin'. Aspirin's in the cabinet over the sink." He shut the door to give her privacy, leaving her before she could say anything else.

Once she was able to lift herself from her cocoon on the tiled floor, she dragged herself over to the sink, rinsing her mouth out and splashing water onto her face. One look at the mirror and she'd had enough. Her eyes were drooping and bloodshot, her short curls tangled, and there was a faint red mark on her cheek from sleeping on her hand. The idea of Daryl having seen her while she was sick was bad enough, the fact that she looked as rough as she did now was mortifying. She'd always considered herself to be rather plain looking, not hideous but not shockingly beautiful either, but she felt insecure knowing that a man with Daryl's rugged good looks had seen her in such a state of disarray. She ran wet hands through her hair, managing to tame it into an acceptable style, but it was about as much as she could do. She found the aspirin Daryl had mentioned and popped a few back with some water, hoping it would work quickly.

After returning her nest of sheets back to the bedroom and remaking Daryl's bed, she stumbled into the kitchen. She was still queasy and lightheaded, but at least the white dots were gone and she could see clearly. She slumped into a folding chair at the card table that must have sufficed as a dining room table, resting her elbows on top. Groaning, she buried her face in her hands. She could feel the heat and smell the coffee that Daryl must have placed in front of her when she sat down before she even saw it. It lured her hands away from her face and she drank greedily, ignoring the bitter taste of the black coffee.

"I don't drink any of that girly cream shit, but there's some milk in the fridge if you don't drink your coffee black. No sugar though." She waved him off, taking another drink from her mug. She didn't really care for black coffee, but she couldn't be bothered to prepare it otherwise. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying their drinks, Carol at the card table and Daryl sitting on the edge of the countertop.

For the first time since she'd been in Daryl's home, she took the time to really look around. She had noticed how bare the place was last night, and it left her with a detached, empty feeling. Other than the pictures above the fireplace, there were no personal touches. The furniture was mismatched and worn looking, matters of convenience rather than aesthetics. It was clean though, an observation that mildly surprised her. Ed and his friends had been complete slobs, never picking up after themselves, and she had grown to expect that in all men. Even her father, as wonderful as he was, had been quite messy and disorderly. But there was no clutter here, no mess. The floors looked clean and everything had a proper place, though admittedly that would be easy to accomplish given the lack of stuff to begin with. Daryl coughed dryly, interrupting her thoughts.

"You sure did a number on Douchebag last night. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"I was really just hitting him anywhere I could. I know a few self-defense basics, you know, groin, eyes, nose. I was just trying to get away." She shrugged self-consciously.

In all honesty, she didn't know where her fight had come from. She'd only ever fought against Ed once, the second time he'd attacked her. The first time he'd simply slapped her and walked away, leaving her too stunned to do anything but stare after him. The second time he'd knocked her to the ground and kicked at her brutally. She'd managed to stand and as he continued his attack, she had tried to hit him back, fists balled up small and tight. It hadn't gone so well in her favor. That was the first night he'd forced her to sleep with him. He'd treated her so brutally that night that she hadn't dared fight back afterwards. Fighting and standing up for herself had only ever made the situation worse.

But she'd fought last night and she'd won, if you could call it a win. She'd gotten away from Dave before he could do anything and it showed her once again just how much her mindset had changed since she'd left Ed. It was empowering. She knew part of it had been sheer dumb luck, but it didn't matter. She'd tried, that was the important part. She hadn't just taken and accepted her fate like she would have when she was with Ed.

"What were you doin' out so late anyway?"

"I was working a late shift, traded with one of the girls. The uniform didn't tip you off?" She still had on her polo from Irma's, her apron back in Daryl's bedroom with her shoes.

"Smartass."

"I could ask the same for you, what were you doing out at that time of night? Stalking me?" Daryl's face morphed quickly into an expression of anger, but seeing her smile, eyes crinkled playfully, he relaxed. He snorted, shifting his weight around, uncomfortable.

"Was outta town for the day, I was just gettin' back in when I saw ya." His stance made it clear that was all he had to say on the matter.

"You hurt your wrist last night?" His attention was on her hand now, and Carol raised her arm to inspect her injury. Her left wrist was swollen, and a small dark bruise had already started to form. It was uncomfortable to move it, but she had a high tolerance for pain. She had forgotten about it while she was lying on the floor in Daryl's bathroom, but the injury explained the pain she felt when she fell out of bed. Experience from Ed told her that it was probably sprained, but thankfully not broken.

"I fell out of bed when I got up this morning. I think I did it then. It's just a little sprain, I'll wrap it and it'll be good as new." She'd known worse pain than a sprained wrist before, dealt with worse pain on her own the nights she was too afraid and ashamed to go to the emergency room.

Daryl hardly paid attention to her as he left the kitchen. He came back carrying a small box, setting it in front of her.

"I've got some bandages in there. Ya need help wrappin' it?"

"I can manage. It isn't the first time I've dealt with a sprained wrist." Daryl quirked a brow, but remained silent. He watched her as she wrapped her wrist with deft fingers, but when it came time to secure the binding, she fumbled awkwardly one-handed. She'd been paying so much attention to her task, she didn't notice Daryl kneel down in front of her until his fingers were on her arm. He took the end of the bandage from her and gently secured it in place. He pulled her arm out to inspect her work, nodding when he deemed it sufficient. Carol stared at him, transfixed by the serious expression of his features, holding her breath. She was reminded of how warm his hands were, how rough. It was too soon when he stood and returned to his spot on the countertop.

He drank from his coffee mug, eyes down, ears tinged red.

"You're a magnet for trouble, ya know that?" Boy, did she.

"It's just my luck, I suppose." She humored him, flexing her hand to test the tightness of her bandage.

"Yeah, well, start carryin' around a rabbit's foot or a four leaf clover or somethin'. I can't always be savin' your ass." Her head shot up, offended, but she calmed seeing the smirk he was trying to hide behind his coffee mug. Two could play that game.

"Maybe I like it when you save my ass." He was blushing again and she found that it made him even more attractive, this bashful side of him. She'd never teased a man before, Ed wasn't known for his good sense of humor. It was fun, and it gave her a sense of powerful femininity she'd never experienced.

She liked this side of herself and this side of Daryl as well. He was awkward and a little socially inept, but it seemed as though they had found their footing with each other, finally. She rather enjoyed talking to him, though talking might not be the right word, given how little of it he actually did. The silence didn't bother her though, it was almost companionable, and it was a nice change from the men she was used to spending time with. It baffled her that she kept finding herself in positions that always seemed to lead her to Daryl. She'd never thought much about fate and destiny, but there was something unexplainable about her tie to the man. She realized that explanation wasn't necessary to her anyway. She was more than content with letting things fall into place on their own, no questions asked.

"Well, I've got some shit I need ta take care of today, so I better get ya on home." He took both of their mugs and began washing them in the sink while she went to retrieve her shoes. She found him in the living room afterwards, keys in hand, waiting to walk her out. Daryl lived about ten minutes from the center of town by car, and the ride to her apartment was short and quiet. She hesitated for a moment as she went to let herself out. She thanked him, but somehow that didn't seem like it was enough. She couldn't find the words, however, and hopped down from the passenger's seat, turning to wave at him as she walked up the path to the front entrance. He nodded, looking unsure of himself, and stayed parked in front of her apartment building until she disappeared inside. She watched from the window as he disappeared down the street.

* * *

Irma and Dale had been kind enough to give Carol a couple of days off to rest her wrist. She'd been off for three days, but couldn't afford to miss any more work, so she was on her way for an afternoon shift. Her wrist was still wrapped, just to be on the safe side, but she didn't think it would be an issue. She was working with Beth that afternoon, who was sitting in the back room with her before their shifts began.

Her apron had seemed to disappear on her, and as Andrea came into the back room, Beth offered to go grab a new one for her. Carol greeted her friend, expecting Andrea to lament about the hardships of her morning shift. What she didn't expect was for Andrea to fix her with a long, hard stare. Carol wondered if she'd done something to upset her, but she couldn't think of anything and prepared herself for one of Andrea's inevitable lectures.

"You know, Sarah, I'm just trying to look out for you, but if you're so insistent on not taking my advice there isn't anything I can do. Why are you so hell bound on running around with Dixon?" Carol was confused. They hadn't talked about Daryl for a while now, he hadn't been to the diner again as far as she knew, so for Andrea to bring it up now was peculiar.

"Andrea, I can make my own decisions. I appreciate you trying to help, but I can handle myself. Daryl isn't that bad, if you give him a chance." Andrea scoffed, throwing her hands in the air.

"You know he's a bad guy, I've told you that a hundred times! Why won't you listen to me? I bet he's got something to do with you spraining your wrist." She was gesturing wildly, frustrated with Carol.

"Why would you think he had anything to do with this?"

"Because you spent the night at his house!"

"How do you know that?" Andrea was silent, taking a step back. She was looking at Carol as if she were a stranger.

"I didn't even know if that was true or not. I thought maybe it was just a rumor, but obviously, you're not trying to hide anything. I did not expect that from you Sarah."

"How do you know I was at Daryl's house?"

"Dave was running around, telling everyone that Dixon beat the shit out of him for no reason. His nose is broken, for God's sake. He said that you went home with him, that you guys are sleeping together or something." Appalled, Carol's jaw dropped at the accusation. She hardly even knew Daryl, she wasn't the kind of woman to sleep with some guy she'd just met. The fact that Dave was the one spreading the rumors filled her with fury. Part of her was glad she'd broken his nose.

"That's not true! Dave attacked me, I got away from him, and Daryl found me. I was in shock, could barely remember anything, so he took me home."

"To take advantage of you."

"No! What else was he supposed to do? He didn't know where I lived, didn't know where else he could take me. He wasn't just going to leave me on the side of the road. We didn't sleep together, he slept on the couch."

"That's not what everyone else thinks."

"So you're going to believe everyone else over me?"

"Well, your story and Dixon's reputation don't exactly mesh, Sarah."

"I can't believe we're even having this conversation right now. I'm your friend, you're supposed to believe me! Nothing happened at Daryl's house. I fell out of bed and sprained my wrist, Daryl had nothing to do with it."

"Guys, stop fighting!" Beth had returned, an extra apron for Carol in hand. She looked between the two, clearly wondering how a fight had broken out between them in her absence.

"Gladly. My shift's over, I'll see you later." Andrea turned and stomped out of the room, leaving Beth to deal with a deflated Carol.

"What happened?" She helped Carol to sit, speaking in a soothing tone.

"She told me about the rumors that Dave's spreading about me and Daryl. I told her they weren't true, but she doesn't believe me. How can she not? She's my friend! It shouldn't even be a question."

"I heard the rumors, they're all over town. I don't believe them, if you say nothing happened then nothing happened. I didn't think Andrea would believe them either, but apparently I was wrong." Beth was holding her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"She thinks that Daryl's this horrible monster, but he's not. We've had our issues, but he's not as bad as everyone thinks he is. He's just a little different."

"I believe you. I mean, Daryl kind of scares me, but I never thought he was as bad as the rest of his family. You're my friend, and I believe you. Andrea will come around, I'm sure. She cares about you, she's just worried. She doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Daryl wouldn't hurt me." She fully believed that. The man let her stay at his house when she had no other option. If he was going to hurt her, he would have made his move that night.

"Then there's nothing to worry about. Don't let what Andrea says dictate your life. Sometime we just have to take a leap of faith and follow our gut. I'll support you as your friend, and Andrea will too. Eventually."

Beth was right. Andrea hadn't been spending time with Daryl, she had. If she felt comfortable hanging around someone who most people considered dangerous, then it was her own decision to live with. She didn't think she was making a bad decision, but if in the end things didn't work out in her favor, she'd deal with the consequences when the time came. For now though, she'd trust her instincts. She was already breaking through Daryl's shell, and she'd be damned if she gave up now.

"Thanks Beth. That means a lot."

"What are friends for, right?"

"I don't have any waitresses out on the floor, what the heck are y'all doin' back here? Scoot!" Irma had come bustling in, shooing the girls out from the backroom onto the floor. Before heading off to work their sections, Beth pulled her in for a hug and Carol was reminded of just how lucky she'd been in her time here in Ashwicke. Her life had taken a complete turn for the better since she ran, and she didn't regret a second of it. Things certainly hadn't been going the way she'd imagined, but she was happy for the first time in years, and that was what mattered. Andrea would come around, and everything would work itself out, she was confident of that.


End file.
